


Breathe In, Breathe Out

by CaspyCasp



Series: The Athena Maris Story [2]
Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-07
Updated: 2018-07-02
Packaged: 2019-05-16 05:26:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 24
Words: 219,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14805213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaspyCasp/pseuds/CaspyCasp
Summary: Athena Maris has learned to adapt; to adapt to life in Victor's Village, to life as a victor in general, to her constant trips to and from the Capitol, to life after the Games, to life without her father. It's no easy task, but she's had a lot of help, from her mother, her younger sister, Calypso, Finnick Odair, Mags Flanagan, Annie Cresta, and her fellow victors in District Four. But when the first sparks of rebellion come in the form of two teenagers from District Twelve, it's not long until she finds Panem, and her life, shifting all over again. As the third Quarter Quell comes around, with a twist she could have never seen coming, and tension seems to mount in all directions with every passing moment, Athena is left to navigate this new world, as well as make crucial decisions about herself, the people she loves most, ad even the future of Panem.[Based off of Catching Fire]





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Before you start reading, I would like to iterate that this is not my story. I did not write it, so I own nothing.  
> It is originally written on Quotev by bucky kentucky, and you can find her profile at www.quotev.com/writingmyowndeliverance
> 
> I own nothing. All things Hunger Games related belong to Suzanne Collins, and anything else belongs to bucky kentucky.
> 
> Thank you.

**Prologue**

 

It was only a matter of time now. There were only two tributes left. A girl and a boy, both from the same district, all alone in an arena that was now filled with nobody else but ghosts. It was a scenario with which she was very familiar personally. The boy was even the same age he had been... there were some differences, though. The girl was younger than she had been by a year, and the way they interacted was so very different... still, the familiarity of it all was overwhelming.

Athena Maris was watching from the District Four floor of the Training Center in the Capitol. She was seated on the sofa, her eyes glued to the television. Finnick Odair was right beside her, similarly transfixed to what was on the television. Neither of them were speaking. They were both tense. Alayne Stentor wasn't there; she was with friends, probably watching this moment with excitement with them. She didn't really need to be around anymore, admittedly; her duties as an escort were essentially over now...

The girl and the boy, Katiniss Everdeen, with her long dark hair and grey eyes and olive skin that was characteristic of people from District Twelve's Seam, and Peeta Mellark, with his blonde hair and blue eyes that was characteristic of people from District Twelve's Merchant class, were standing across from each other, their eyes transfixed on one another. They had been through much in such a short time, and the frustrated, desperate, and most of all, fearful looks on their faces made that much clear.

First had been the muttations, the worst from the Capitol that Athena had ever seen. They were wolves, she supposed, but they were no natural-born animal. They were mutated so that they resembled each of the fallen tributes from these Games; their furs would match the hair of the tributes, their eyes the exact same colour of their human counterpart and their behaviours and features far too human to be anything else.

It was horrific enough as it was, but the sight of two mutts in particular, one with a sleek brown coat and nut brown eyes, the other with a curlier blond coat and dark blue eyes, hit her worst of all. Their tributes, they were supposed to be their tributes, Mollie Finbar and Dylan Kent. Mollie Finbar was an eighteen year-old girl who had volunteered for her younger sister, more to protect her than out of a belief that she could really win. Still, she was strong and determined, and Athena and Finnick had done all they could to prepare her for that arena, but who could have predicted the nest of Tracker Jackers that Katniss Everdeen of District Twelve would set upon the Career pack, killing both Mollie and Glimmer of District One? The stings seemed to cover her, all over her body, until nut brown eyes that were once bright and sharp were glazed and lifeless. Athena watched as the stings killed her, listened to her cries of pain and her last breaths, and thought of the way she'd said she had some hope for herself because of them.

Dylan Kent died so much earlier, was gone before he could ever really have a chance for himself. He wasn't particularly strong, so Athena and Finnick had stressed to him over and over to use his speed and his stealth to his advantage, and yet it had not saved him when his neck had been cut open and blood spurted out from the wound... Dylan was only fourteen, but he was a volunteer; he had said he wanted to be just like his hero... just like Finnick. He had been so determined, so certain that he could do it. Athena and Finnick had tried to help him, had tried to prepare him, but it had been all for nothing... Finnick, unsurprisingly, had taken his death hard. Dylan had looked up to him; he felt like it had been his responsibility to look after him, even more than usual.

This was her fifth year mentoring, and Finnick had been doing it for nearly twice as long. Their experience with mentoring did not make seeing those tributes die and seeing their muttation form any easier. It was clear that this burden, raising these children up only to see them fall and not get back up again, was not one that became easier with time.

"I keep thinking about the way they died," she had whispered, at the sight of their wolf forms creeping forward. "Both of them. The way the blood just flew from his neck... and the stings all over her face... and now this..."

"I know," he whispered back, unsurprisingly; it was already an image that was hard to forget, and this had made it impossible. Were the eyes on those wolves the actual eyes of the dead children? And what about their minds? Were they given any of the tributes' actual thoughts and memories? Did they remember being murdered so callously, did they think they were avenging their own deaths?

But the mutts had gotten what they had come for in the end; after a desperate fight, Katniss and Peeta took down Cato of District Two, the only other living tribute, sending him to the pack of wolves. He fought the mutts for hours and hours on end, protected by the body armour he wore, but he was outnumbered by the pack of mutts and they overtook him at the end. They didn't kill him at first, though; they tortured him for hours, and it was clear why. This was the climax of the Games, after all, and the Gamemakers wanted to make sure they put on a good show. Finally, finally, the torture ended for the boy when Katniss got a clear shot at him with her bow and arrow and killed him out of pity.

And then they had won. Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark had won. Both of them. Because there was something very special about these Games; for the first time, it had been announced that there could be two victors, so long as they came from the same district. This was a change in rules that stirred a lot of excitement among the Capitol and confusion among everyone else (and, though she didn't like to admit it, some resentment within Athena; if only Kai Emerson had been allowed to live, if only neither of them had to die...), considering it went against what had been one of the primary rules of the Hunger Games since its beginning nearly a century ago; that only one tribute was allowed to make it out alive as a victor. Still, Katniss and Peeta were quick to reunite after that, fighting tooth and nail against the odds against two tributes from District Twelve to survive the Hunger Games. And then they won.

Except they didn't.

The thing about Katniss and Peeta was that nobody had ever seen anyone like them before. Katniss Everdeen was the first volunteer from District Twelve in the history of Panem, having volunteered to save her younger sister, Primrose Everdeen. And she and Peeta showed a determination and drive to live that was not always seen in tributes from District Twelve. From what Athena could tell, they had gotten Haymitch Abernathy to shift from his usual jaded, indifferent, and rather drunken state to a determined, focused, and relatively sober mentor - which was no easy task. Athena may have been in the Capitol, but she could already sense that Katniss was becoming a symbol of hope for people in the districts. She had been allies with a young girl from District Eleven named Rue. And when that young, sweet, innocent girl was murdered in cold blood, Katniss was grief-stricken, but still gave her the only funeral she could, laying her among flowers, before kissing three fingers and raising them to the sky in a sort of salute. Neither Athena nor Finnick had any idea what the symbol meant, but upon asking Haymitch, they discovered it was a symbol of thanks, of admiration, of saying goodbye to someone you loved. Rue's death, along with the way Katniss paid her respects, acknowledging her as more than just a piece in the Games, sparked riots in District Eleven, and Athena got a feeling it wouldn't be long until more happen.

What really seemed to be defining this year's Games, though - at least, to the Capitol - was the love story between Katniss and Peeta. Oh, it was a beautiful thing; Peeta had had a crush on her since he was a child, and now they were in love, destined to a love that could not last in the arena... it was an absolutely brilliant tactic, executed perfectly, and to nobody's surprise, the Capitol went crazy for it. Even Alayne, Tatiana, and Syrio all swooned and sighed over their love affair. What was incredible about it was that nobody had ever done it before. She couldn't believe it; from the perspective of a mentor, it was a stroke of pure genius, but nobody had ever thought to present their tributes as star-crossed lovers. People would have their tribute flirt, keep up something light and amusing to watch, play up their desirability, but it had never been done that a set of tributes were portrayed to have a fully fledged romance.

As such, these Games were particularly unique and exciting. And to bring the excitement and dramatics of these Games to an all-time high, the Gamemakers had announced that two tributes could win so long as they came from the same district, only to take that hope away at the last second when only Katniss and Peeta remained. It promised the ultimate, most dramatic showdown. And the two teenagers had fallen for it. Everyone had. But when Athena thought about it, this was not surprising at all. It was exactly the sort of thing the Gamemakers would do, even to two terrified teenagers who wanted nothing more than to go home.

So now Katniss and Peeta stood across from each other, the realization having dawned on them, the fear and the anger all over their faces, as they realized that only one of them would come out of this arena.

"It'll be her," Finnick said. "It'll be Katniss."

"You think so?" Athena said.

Finnick nodded. "Yeah. She's the fighter. The odds have always been more in her favour. Besides, this star-crossed lovers thing is bullshit, but he seemed to actually care about her, at least. Her... not so much. She'll be more willing to finish it in the end."

"Maybe," Athena conceded. "Probably. But she did risk a lot to take care of him, too much for someone who doesn't care at all. And Peeta's been defying a lot of the odds by even still being alive. A lot of people didn't expect him to make it this far."

"True," he said. "But they both did that. Two kids from District Twelve... no one was expecting this."

Which, of course, was true. District Twelve was one of the poorest districts in Panem, and it almost never saw victors. There was only one living victor in District Twelve; Haymitch Abernathy, a paunchy, middle-aged, alcoholic man who Athena had a certain fondness for despite his occasional extreme unpleasantness. But now, no matter how this ended, District Twelve would have a new victor.

"If you think about it," Peeta was saying softly, "it's not that surprising."

Peeta got to his feet painfully; he had a variety of injuries, including a deep cut in his upper thigh and blood poisoning. Katniss had tried to heal him as best as she could, but she had limited supplied, and Athena could tell already that he'd need to have his leg amputated at the very least - if he made it out of this alive. He moved towards Katniss, a hand going towards the knife in his belt. Instinctively, Katniss raised her bow, loaded it with an arrow, and pointed it directly at his heart, except Peeta was now looking at her in surprise, because he had already tossed his knife aside, letting it fly into the lake. Katniss dropped her weapons and took a step back, shame evident on her face.

"No," he said. "Do it."

Peeta limped over and thrust the weapons back in her hands.

"I can't," she said. "I won't."

"Do it. Before they send those mutts back or something. I don't want to die like Cato."

"Then you shoot me!" Katniss said furiously, shoving the weapons in Peeta's hands. "You shoot me and go home and live with it!"

"You know I can't," Peeta said, discarding the weapons. "Fine, I'll go first anyway."

He leaned down and ripped off the bandage on his leg, eliminating the final barrier between his blood and earth, but Katniss was already on her knees, desperately plastering the bandage back onto his wound, saying, "No, you can't kill yourself!"

"Katniss," he said, "it's what I want."

"You're not leaving me here alone," she said, shaking her head.

"Listen," he said, pulling her to her feet. "We both know they have to have a victor. It can only be one of us. Please, take it. For me."

He was telling her about how much he loved her, how little life would mean without her, but she didn't seem to be listening. She seemed to be somewhere far, far away. Her face set, determination all over it, and her fingers began fumbling with the pouch at her belt, freeing it.

Peeta clamped his hand on her wrist, saying, "No, I won't let you."

"Trust me," she whispered, giving him a significant look. He held her gaze for a long moment, before letting her go.

She loosened the opening of the pouch and poured a few spoonfuls of berries into his palm, then her own. Athena's heart nearly stopped at the sight of them, her entire body tensing up. She recognized those berries. It wasn't the first time they had been seen in this arena, since they had killed the girl from District Five. They seemed to be abundant in this forest arena. Even then, though, Athena had some personal experience with these berries...

"Wait a minute," Finnick said, equally tense beside her, "is that - that's - ?"

"Nightlock," Athena said for him, nodding once. "Poison berries. They'll be dead in a minute if they eat those."

"They wouldn't," Finnick said immediately, his eyes glued to the television. "They wouldn't. Would they?"

"They might," was all Athena could say, but she was stunned at what she was seeing as well.

Of course, it wasn't rare for tributes to kill themselves in the Games (she forced herself not to think of Kirk Martin of District Six, the way he leapt off his plate too early during the countdown, the way there had been nothing left of him but pieces), but never when they were the last tributes remaining. And if they both ate those berries, that meant there would be no victor. This was the seventy-fourth Hunger Games, and in all these years, there had never once been no victor... there always had to be a victor in the end, that was one of the most fundamental parts of the Hunger Games... if there was no victor, it would all blow up in the Capitol's faces. The Gamemakers will have failed the Capitol in such an enormous way... they would have to be punished, of course, each and every one of them... they would perhaps even be executed, slowly and painfully, while it was broadcasted on television for all to see... that was, if Katniss and Peeta were to die, or they thought they were.

And with a sudden tidal wave of understanding, Athena knew at once what they were going to do.

She tore her eyes away from the television long enough to look at Finnick, her eyes wide as she whispered. "Finnick. Finnick, they're going to - "

"I know," he said, looking over at her, apparently having come to the same conclusion at the same time as her.

They looked back at the television, unable to do anything but watch.

"The count of three?" Katniss said.

Peeta leaned forward and kissed her gently. "The count of three."

They stood, their backs pressed together and their free hands locked tightly.

"Hold them out," Peeta said, "I want everyone to see."

And so they both spread out their fingers, the dark berries glinting in the sun, so that all could see and there was no mistaking them. They squeezed their hands, perhaps as a sign of goodbye, and began counting.

"One."

What if they were wrong?

"Two."

What if they  _were_ willing to let both of them die?

"Three."

They both brought their berries to their mouth in unison. No sooner had the berries passed their lips when the trumpets began to blare.

The frantic voice of Claudius Templesmith cried out, "Stop! Stop! Ladies and gentleman, I'm pleased to present the victors of the Seventy-Fourth Annual Hunger Games! I give you - the prides of District Twelve!"

They had done it. They had done it. The plan had worked.

Katniss and Peeta spit out the berries immediately, the former even wiping her tongue with her shirt to ensure none of the juice remained. Peeta pulled her to the lake, where they both rinsed their mouths thoroughly with water, before collapsing into each other's arms.

"You didn't swallow any?" Katniss asked.

He shook his head. "You?"

"Guess I'd be dead by now if I did."

Athena could see Peeta's lips moving in reply, but whatever he was saying was drowned out by the roar of the crowd in the Capitol that was being played live over the speakers.

The hovercraft materialized to collect them, two ladders dropping, but the two teenagers refused to let go of each other. Katniss helped Peeta to his feet, gripping onto his arm tightly as they put their feet on the first rung of the ladder.

As the electric current froze Katniss and Peeta in place and they were both lifted into the hovercraft, Athena and Finnick exchanged significant looks, and it was clear to her at once that they were thinking the same thing. Whatever was going through Katniss Everdeen's mind when she came up with that plan, whatever was going through her and Peeta Mellark's mind when they carried it out - it might have just been survival - it did not change that what they had done was in blatant rebellion to the very foundations of what the Hunger Games were, which meant that it was also a blatant rebellion to the Capitol, the kind that hadn't been seen in nearly a full century. And they both knew immediately that Panem would forever be changed because of it. What would come next - whether it would bring peace of chaos or both or if the change would be rather minimal - was uncertain. But it was clear that this was a Panem that would never be the same again. All they could do for now was hold their breath.


	2. I

**I**

 

Athena Maris was running. She was dressed in a tan-coloured cargo jacket and pants, boots to match, and a white tunic; they were dirty and bloodied and torn in places. She was injured in many places; the back of her head was wounded, she had a slowly healing black eye, a swollen wrist, a sprained ankle, and several other cuts and wounds all over her body. She was limping due to the injuries on her legs, but that didn’t stop her from running through the desert, the old city that had been torn apart by war, her spear and golden shield held tightly in her hands. She was seventeen again and terrified and running at top speed. She didn’t know where exactly she was running to, but she felt an urgency to keep going, so that was what she did. She couldn’t stop if she wanted to; she seemed to have no control over her body.

Kai Emerson seemed to materialize out of thin air, his bow already loaded with an arrow, with more slung across his back. He began firing at her at top speed, but she was running so fast that the closest his arrows ever got was skimming past her, dangerously close. He kept firing at her, until the ground underneath him turned into that tar-like black substance and began to pull him under.

“KAI!” she cried out, drowned out by his screams of pain.

She wanted to stop running away and try to reach him, but her legs kept moving forward without her control, and she was too helpless to save him yet again. He sunk into the tar-like substance and disappeared from sight as the cannon went off, still reaching for Athena, who could never save him, not even in dreams -

She couldn’t stop to dwell on it even if she wanted to; she kept running. Marjorie Hopper came charging at her from behind one of the buildings, her knife in hand, shouting something that she realized with an unpleasant lurch was her sister's name, Charity Hopper. Before Marjorie could even attempt to cause any real damage to her, though, a spear that looked sickeningly like the one she was holding went through her chest, and she dropped to the ground, letting out a choked noise while she fell. And again, Athena fought with all her might to be able to reach her, to try and save her while she could, but she could not stop her feet from running forward. The cannon went off, and the hovercraft materialized and collected her body, and she was gone.

“You let me die!” cried out an achingly familiar voice. “YOU LET ME DIE!”

Cara Savera was in front of her, charging directly towards her, her knives in her hands. There was also the spike that killed her sticking out of her back, causing her to bleed through her clothes, but she was forcing herself to move even as she bled out, determined to carry out revenge upon Athena. But at the last moment, she seemed to have lost too much blood and dropped to her knees, too weak to continue. Athena made herself speed up; Cara was in her path, if she could reach her in time and figure out a way to stop herself from running... but then Athena could see, even from this distance, the light leaving her eyes, and Cara Savera was dead all over again. The cannon went off, and the hovercraft collected Cara’s body before Athena could have any hope of saving her.

She heard footsteps pounding behind her, and turned to see Rowan Lindell, his grown-out black hair falling over his face which was twisted in anger and aggression in a way that she had never seen on him. He raised his ax as he quickened his pace, and she knew at once he intended to use it on her. Suddenly, though, two arrows went straight through him, one in his stomach and the other in his chest, and he dropped to the sandy ground. Athena tried desperately to stop and turn around to reach him, but she couldn’t do anything but keep running forward. She knew, however, without needing to look into his face or hear the cannon go off that Rowan Lindell had died again. The hovercraft collected his body, too, and she forced herself to look away.

Tears were prickling in her eyes, and she wanted to reach up to wipe them away, but she couldn’t get her hands to move, only clutching onto her spear and shield. Her helplessness and frustration only made more tears form in her eyes.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a flash of movement, and she turned to see something - someone - that made her heart drop. It was her father - somehow, somehow he was here, in this hellish arena - leaning against the wall of a decrepit house, and he seemed to be fading away in front of her eyes. He was dying. He was dying. Athena couldn’t let him die. Athena had to say goodbye, if nothing else. She fought with everything she had in her to change course and reach him, but she couldn’t do it. She was not strong enough, and her feet just kept running, running, running forward, and she saw her father take his last breath as she passed him, and he was gone again, and she’d been robbed of a goodbye again, and she was full-on crying again -

Around fifty feet from her, she saw the desert end, and she thought it might mean freedom, until she saw a figure standing still, as though waiting for her. She couldn’t make out anything about the figure until she was much closer, and saw, very clearly, that it was President Snow, dressed in a pristine white, looking utterly clean and put-together in a way that felt wrong in this ruined arena. He was watching her with an amused, satisfied smirk. Behind him seemed to be the Capitol, but she didn’t understand how that was possible, how all roads seemed to end here, seemed to be blocked by him, how she could never, ever be free -

“Remember,” Snow said, as he drew ever closer, his voice echoing unpleasantly in her ears, overwhelming her, “not to stray too far from the harbour.”

There was a pause, about as long as a breath, in, then out - and before she could say or do anything else, a spear went straight through her chest, and she was falling, falling, falling. The cannon went off to signal her death, and Athena woke up with a jolt, bolting upright. She reached instinctively for her spear and shield on either side of her, panicking when there was nothing there - until she took in where she was. She was not in the arena. She was not in the Capitol. She was home, in District Four, in her room in Victor’s Village. She clutched onto her sheets tightly, as her heart rate began to settle and she tried to make her breathing more regular. It was a dream. It was just a dream, and far from the first one one she had had about her Games or her father’s death or President Snow and the Capitol.

Despite the fact that she had only been dreaming, she couldn’t find much relief now that she was awake. It might have just been a dream, but everything she dreamt about was real. Her Games were real, the arena was real. Kai Emerson, Marjorie Hopper, Rowan Lindell, and Cara Savera, along with so many other children, had all died brutally in there. Her father was dead and she never got to say goodbye. President Snow and the Capitol were constant threats that hung over her head, caging her in a way that she could never seem to escape from. Waking up from nightmares wasn't so great if there wasn't much of a difference when you woke up.

Still, she forced herself out of bed, getting out of bed and stretching, a sigh escaping her lips. She went through her morning routine, trying to clear her mind of the nightmare. When she was dressed, she took a moment to examine herself in the mirror. She wore a pair of dark pants and one of her father's old sweaters, still rather large on her. It wasn't quite an outfit that befit her glamorous status as a victor, she knew, but she would be working today and she needed to dress warm enough for the winter weather (District Four typically brought about moderate climates, especially in comparison to other districts; there wasn't even snow on the ground yet, but she knew that was only a matter of time, and it was still rather chilly) and she never really bothered with looking perfect unless the Capitol was watching and expecting it of her, so she didn't really care.

Athena always felt like she looked so different since her Games, she wouldn't be surprised if she just didn't recognize herself one day. And there really were some differences now, of course. She looked older now, certainly - at twenty-three, she was officially a woman, though sometimes she felt too small for such a title and sometimes she felt like she’d been carrying that title for a very, very, very long time. Her hair was a little longer, too, since she’d let the curls grow out a little past her shoulders. But she really wasn't so different; she hadn't grown much, which everyone thought was funny and she found quite tragic. She had the same dark brown skin, the same almond-shaped brown eyes, the same full lips and straight, white teeth. If the District Four prep team over in the Capitol, Ajax, Leto, and Hestia, had all had their way, she would look much, much different; they had all wanted to make permanent alterations to her body, but she had drawn the line, the only time she ever protested anything they wanted to do with her. Finnick, Tatiana, Syrio, and even Alayne had all taken her side on the matter, but the matter wasn’t dropped fully until Athena brought it up when they were having dinner at President Snow’s mansion on one occasion.

“Is that so?” Snow had said in interest. He seemed to examine Athena for a moment, before his puffed-up lips twitched upwards into something that was almost a smile and he shook his head, leaning back into his seat and saying, “No, I would advise against it. Our lovely Athena is a natural beauty. I’m sure much of the Capitol would agree with me. Best not to interfere with that.”

“That’s what _I_ always said! Tatiana said, looking vindicated.

Athena could tell that Ajax, Leto, and Hestia still hadn’t let go of the idea, but they wouldn’t dare pursue it after President Snow gave his disapproval to the idea, which meant Athena was safe in that aspect; unless he and the Capitol ever changed their minds...

She shook it off, adjusted her clothes, and headed out of her room and downstairs. Her younger sister, Calypso, was seated at the table, reading a book Lillian Brooks had recommended to her. She was fifteen now, and somehow already nearly Athena's height. Her resemblance to their father was striking and beautiful and a little heartbreaking; she had his light brown, wide eyes, his nose, his ears, his eyelashes. She still resembled Athena and their mother, though; they all had the same hair, mouth, and cheekbones. Calypso’s short hair was loose, some of the curls falling in front of her face as her eyes scanned the pages.

“Morning,” Athena said as she strode into the room.

“Morning,” Calypso said distractedly, not looking up from her book.

“Mom didn’t make breakfast?” Athena asked.

“No, she’s asleep.”

“Good thing, too,” Athena decided. “Don’t wake her up. She was up late last night. I'll just make something.”

“Make eggs,” Calypso said, still absorbed in her reading.

“You,” Athena said firmly, pointing a finger at her sister as she turned on the stove, “are in no position to be making demands.”

“Whatever you say, Wise One.”

Athena shook her head, but ended up making eggs anyway. She made sure to insist to her sister that it had nothing to do with her asking for them, and Calypso just grinned in satisfaction as she set aside her book and dug into her eggs.

“What are you doing today?” Calypso asked as they ate.

“I'll be down at the docks most of the day,” Athena shrugged. “Hudson wants me to help with training again. I’ll be showing them how to not stab themselves with a spear and various other important skills.”

“How noble,” Calypso said with a smile. “You know, it really is kinda weird, the fact that you and Mom still work so much. It's not like you need to.”

“I've told you, I like to keep busy,” Athena replied. “So does Mom. You probably just don't get why I like being at sea so much.”

“Very true,” Calypso said without shame. “How you don't get sick out there is beyond me. Actually, it is kinda weird how you ended up liking sailing so much; I don't, and Mom and Dad never did.”

“Maybe it's a trait that skips a generation,” Athena shrugged. “Anyway, the important question is what _you're_ doing today - and if you don't answer ‘school,’ we're going to have a problem.”

“Going is hard, alright?” Calypso sighed. “Listening to them go on and on about how great the Games are, all the kids are so excited to be tributes, when I've seen firsthand... well, you know...”

And, of course, Athena did know. Calypso had never liked the Games and seen them as an honour or an exciting thing; the Reaping Day had always been a sordid occasion instead of an exciting one in the Maris household. But Calypso had spent the last six years growing up in Victor's Village, meaning that there was no keeping her from seeing up close the effects the Games had on the victors. This likely made it very difficult to sit and listen to all the lies the academy spewed out about the Games.

“I know it’s hard,” Athena said, “but you need to go, alright? Attendance is mandatory, and I can only use my status as victor and smile and wave to get you out of trouble so many times. Promise me you'll go.”

Calypso mumbled something under her breath, looking down at her plate.

“What was that?” Athena said expectantly.

“I promise,” Calypso sighed, looking up at her.

Athena smiled at her sister, satisfied. Calypso wouldn't always tell her everything right away, would sometimes need coaxing, but she didn't lie to her (Athena would know if she did, anyway); if she said she was going to go, she was going to go.

“What else are you doing today?” Calypso asked. “I really did want to know.”

She shrugged. “I might visit Finnick. I haven't seen him in a while.”

Calypso stopped eating to shoot her a disbelieving look. “Two days is a while now?”

“What can I say? I'm just used to him, I guess,” she said, a little defensively.

“You might as well ask him to move in,” Calypso said matter-of-factly, “if you can’t go that long without seeing each other.”

“Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Athena said teasingly. “Seeing Finnick Odair walk around half-naked in your house.”

Calypso pulled a face. “I've told you, I stopped thinking about him like that years ago. Besides, you'd probably like that more than I ever could.”

“Not this again,” she shook her head. “I've seen him half-naked too many times to take much pleasure in it.”

“He's too good-looking for me to believe _that_ ,” Calypso said, shooting her a disbelieving look. “Anyway, you'd probably never ask him anything like that. You’re way too scared he'll realize that you've secretly been in love with him this whole time.”

" _Calypso_ ,” she said warningly.

"What?” her sister said innocently. “It's a fair statement.”

Athena stared at her blankly for a moment. She needed a way out of this conversation for two reasons; one, because she didn't want to confront the probable truth behind Calypso's words, and two, when it came to Finnick, talking about being in love was a very dangerous thing. Finnick, due to his desirability in the Capitol, was made to be a sexual slave by President Snow, forced to take several lovers every time he was in the Capitol, people who would be presented with him as a gift or could buy him for a period of time if they coughed up enough money. Snow did the same to several victors, and constantly hung the threat over Athena's head, but Finnick was the Capitol's favourite. Part of the deal was that the so-called lovers had to believe he was actually in love with them; as such, he could never really be with anyone he truly loved, especially not openly. Snow had warned her once of the consequences that would come about if Finnick was ever with someone he was actually in love with, even her, and she shuddered to think about what he would do to Finnick, to her mother and sister, to Mags and Annie, to her...

Of course, Calypso didn't know any of this. Athena had no way of explaining the situation to her without explaining how Finnick was forced to have his body sold, and Athena knew Finnick wasn't quite ready for Calypso and their mother to know everything yet. They only knew very vaguely of what Snow had Finnick do in the Capitol. Granted, her mother and Calypso were far too smart to be completely in the dark, and Athena got the idea they suspected more than they let on. They still didn't know everything, though, and Athena couldn't tell them everything. Besides, in some cases, the less they knew, the better.

Finally, Athena shook her head and got up from the table, having already finished eating, saying, “I don’t have to deal with this.”

“You still haven’t denied anything!” her sister called after her, as Athena cleared and washed her plate.

“I’m not dealing with this!” Athena said again, putting on her leather shoes, her dark brown shearling coat with fur lining, and grabbing her spear and net. “Do what’s left of the dishes, will you?” Calypso didn’t respond, but Athena knew it was as good as a yes. She opened the door, calling over her shoulder, “And go to school!”

And with that, she walked out of the house, closing the door behind her.

 

*

 

Athena was rather good at yelling. She needed to, after all; with the sound of the ocean's waves crashing all around, the winter wind roaring in their ears, and the three trainees before her who occasionally needed to be brought back to attention, it wasn't uncommon for her to have to shout for them to hear her, despite them all being on the same relatively small, wooden boat. Athena stood near the bow, holding her spear and turning her back to the open water she loved so much. The three trainees stood in the middle, each holding a borrowed spear that was roughly proportionate to their size. Hudson stood at the other end near the stern, her back turned to the docks, watching the scene with an impassive expression and her arms crossed, the wind whipping strands of steel grey hair around. The ocean conditions, along with the high winter winds, made the three trainees struggle to stay standing. Both Athena and Hudson thought this was a good thing; it gave them practice working in unpleasant conditions.

This was the last session of the day; they had already had two other sessions, each with three trainees. They had already been through the basics of how to manoeuvre through the water, knot-tying, and how to use a net. Now they were talking about spears. Besides using it a few times at the academy, none of these trainees had any experience with spears, which means Athena had really had to start with the basics. Though none of the trainees were any younger than thirteen and Athena had started working at the docks quite young, she found that she had start with the basics of a lot of things.

"Not everyone's a natural at it like you,” was all Hudson had to say about it. “But they're the future, and they just need a firm hand. I'm sure you can give that to them.”

Athena supposed she had a point. There was improvement among the trainees with every session. Both Athena and Hudson had hope for them yet.

“Remember,” Athena said loudly, “you've got to learn to be fluid with your movements. It won't be as effective when you strike if they aren't. Practice is helpful in this sense. And this isn't a sword, Coral,” Athena added, looking directly at the girl of fourteen with dark brown skin, light brown eyes, and black hair she kept in two braids, “don't hold it like one.”

Coral was quick to correct her stance, looking a little sheepish. Athena gave her an approving nod and smile. Coral was only there because her parents, former sailors, insisted she follow in their footsteps, despite her having a greater affinity for working in shops; as such, Athena tried to go easy on her, figuring she'd never end up actually working at the docks if she could help it. Still, she felt it was good to make sure she showed improvement, since her parents always asked about how she was progressing. Besides, learning how to wield a spear, along with other skills such as knot-tying, could be life-saving. After all, if she was ever Reaped...

Athena shook her head slightly, bringing the thought out of her mind. _Don't think about that right now. You have a job to do._

“Yeah, Coral, _God_ ,” teased Irven, a boy Coral's age with golden brown skin, messy dark hair, and a determination to perfect everything he was taught (it was a slow process, but the effort was nice).

Coral, irritated, shoved Irven roughly. Irven frowned and went to retaliate, but Athena said sharply, “Hey! You,” she pointed at Coral, “no fighting while holding deadly weapons you barely know how to use.”

“What if I put the spear down?” Coral asked. “Then can I fight him?”

“I appreciate you checking in with me first, but that's still a no,” said Athena, and before Irven could look too smug, she pointed at him and said, “And you, no acting all high and mighty until you stop pointing the blade of the spear at yourself. That's begging for someone to stab you.”

Irven corrected his stance quickly, looking embarrassed and glaring at Coral when she smirked at him, but said, “I mean, what danger is it here? Who's gonna stab me, the fish?”

“The mermaids might,” Athena deadpanned.

“The only mermaid here is you, Athena, remember?” Irven retorted, looking proud of himself for remembering and being able to reference the mermaid look the District Four stylists had given her all those years ago, bringing her to the attention of the Capitol for the first time, the look that they still brought back every now and then. Beck, a pale, freckled boy with flaming red hair that was trying his best (which Athena could appreciate) but tended to get very whiny if things didn't work out for him the way he wanted them to (which she found hard to appreciate) laughed, and Coral forgot to be annoyed with Irven long enough to grin. Even Hudson cracked what was close to a very amused smile. Somehow, they had gone from the trainees being too intimidated by her status to speak to her to this (they were still intimidated and would never outright disrespect her, but they were definitely much more comfortable with her now). She found she preferred this, though.

“You're very clever,” Athena said flatly, making her expression utterly unamused. “Anyway, even if no one stabs you on purpose, it might happen by mistake. Or you could do it to yourself by accident - don't look like that, it's more common than you think, especially on turbulent waters.”

“Athena,” Beck spoke up, “maybe we'd have an easier time if we saw you in action using your spear. You know, we'd learn by example.”

Athena looked over at Hudson, her eyebrows raised just slightly, a silent question. Hudson nodded once. She shrugged and said, “Okay. Watch closely.”

She tightened her grip on her spear, before beginning to go through the motions of actually using it, striking against thin air. She used grander, more dramatic movements than altogether necessary, twirling the spear around a lot, which felt an awful lot like showing off but she did to show them how to manoeuvre the spear. Then she paused, looking down at the water around them, watching, waiting. She found what she was looking for; a fish was swimming leisurely around the wooden boat. Athena held her breath, waiting for exactly the right moment. When the moment came and the fish was exactly where she needed it to be, she struck quickly and suddenly, stabbing it right through its head.

Smirking triumphantly, Athena was about to turn to face the three trainees again, but then suddenly it was Kai Emerson she had just stabbed through, Kai Emerson back in District Four where he belonged, Kai Emerson who was now sinking into the depths of the ocean, which seemed to now be made entirely of that horrible tar-like substance, Kai Emerson who she had failed once again. Athena cried out in fear, in horror (in shame, too, perhaps), stumbling backwards until she had fallen over onto the deck. Still she scrambled backwards as much as she could in that small boat, away from Kai as the darkness swallowed him whole, away from what she had done, away -

“Maris!” a voice said from a million miles away. “Maris! _ATHENA!_ ”

It was Hudson, kneeling by her side and shaking her to get her to snap out of it. She blinked hard, giving her head a shake, and looked around her. Kai Emerson was not there, because he never had been. The only thing she had stabbed was a fish, her spear now resting beside her, a reddish tint to the end of the blade. The ocean was just ocean, the same deep blue it always was, turned a darker color due to the dark, grey clouds above them. Hudson was hovering over her with a look of concern on her face. Coral, Irven, and Beck were all hanging back at the opposite end of the boat, a little wary. They must have been wondering if she as mad, mad like the way they all whispered about Annie Cresta being mad...

“Hey! You three!” Hudson barked, snapping urgently. “Make yourselves useful and get us back to the docks.”

The three trainees were quick to do as Hudson said. Hudson turned back to her, her brow furrowed with worry.

“Hudson,” Athena said dully. “Hudson, I'm fine.”

“Like hell you are!” Hudson said sharply. “I've seen fine, Maris, you aren't it.”

Athena was still a little too shaken to argue. She just stared blankly ahead of her, thinking of Kai Emerson and the darkness that swallowed him whole, of all the ghosts that followed her out of the arena. Before she knew it, the boat was docked again.

“Hey,” Hudson was saying, “Hey, Maris, are you good to stand?”

“Y-yeah,” Athena said unsteadily, “yeah, I’m fine.”

Regardless, Hudson helped her to her feet, off the boat, and onto the docks. Hudson held her at arm’s length, while the three trainees stood, clustered together, a few feet away, watching the two women.

“You get on home now,” Hudson was saying, “take the rest of the day off.”

“Hey, Hudson, I swear I’m fine,” Athena said. “I can finish this session, really -”

“Which means after some time to recover, you’ll be more than ready to start fresh next week,” Hudson said firmly. “I’ll finish this session - unless, of course, you don’t think I’m capable? What, don’t tell me you think I’m getting too old...?”

Athena said nothing of the sort; she didn’t think so, and even if she did, no one with any sense would ever dare say it in front of Hudson.

“That’s what I thought,” Hudson said with a smirk. “Now hurry back home. And take it easy, okay, Maris? Don’t be hard on yourself.”

Athena nodded, making herself smile weakly. And so after collecting her spear and her net and bidding goodbye to Hudson and the three trainees, she was gone. She went back home (Calypso apparently had actually gone to school, and her mother, having a day off, was still asleep, which Athena was glad for; she’d seemed so tired lately...) to dispose of her spear and net, but found she couldn’t stand to stay there for very long, so she was back out of the house in practically no time. Nobody was around outside, which she was privately pleased about; certainly, she had grown to love this odd little group, something reminiscent of a family, of victors, but she found she wanted to be alone just then.

She ended up going on a very slow, leisurely walk around the district, lost in thought the entire time. She walked along the entire beach, right until she made it to the cave, but Finnick was not there and she didn’t really want to be there alone just then, so she was gone before long. Annie was nowhere to be found, either; sometimes the winter weather would stop her from continuing regular ritual of sitting out at the beach, sometimes it would not. Today was clearly one those days where it did. With no reason to linger, Athena kept walking.

She walked past the academy; school would end before long, but classes were still going on, so Calypso was nowhere to be seen. Athena kept walking. She ended up in her old neighbourhood. She passed Finnick's old house, casting a lingering gaze on it as she continued on until she was at her old brick home. As she had done many times before, she made to go in; she was at the front door and about to pull out the hidden key when, quite suddenly, she changed her mind and went back the way she came. She kept walking. She passed the Justice Building, then the graveyard. She looked out at the place where she knew her father's grave was; she almost went to visit, before she changed her mind about that too and walked away. That would be for another time, too. She avoided a group of patrolling Peacekeepers with ease (her fear and distrust of Peacekeepers had never faded, especially not as more were coming in droves recently, each one seeming to be more violent and dangerous than the last...), and kept walking.

And the whole time, she was thinking. What she had seen on the water earlier was weighing heavily on her mind and her heart. It was far from the first time she had hallucinated something from her Games, but it had been a nice, long time since it had last happened, and she’d never done it in front of any of her trainees before... she knew what they were likely thinking, and she didn't like it at all. Most people did not know how the Hunger Games had truly affected her, and for the most part, Athena preferred it that way. It was better for her like that, safer. She'd have to put on an extra good show of being perfectly okay and normal next week, and she found that, despite the fact that she really liked training the future fishermen and sailors of District Four, she wasn't very excited for it.

Not only that, but the hallucination was bringing back all the memories of the Games that she tried so hard to suppress - at least, during the day where she could sort of help it; during the night, she was helpless to her emotions, prisoner to her memories. Not just of Kai, but also of Rowan Lindell, with his friendly smile and steady presence and the arrows that had stabbed right through him; of Cara Savera, with her golden plaits that Athena would help her with and her bold nature and the way the spike had pierced her thin body; of Marjorie Hopper, with her big eyes and her sister who had looked so much like Athena and the spear that had stuck out from her body, of all the dead children whose lives had been ended too soon in that desert, that ruined city...

The sun was hanging low in the sky when Athena finally was walking through the wrought iron gates of Victor's Village, her mind and her heart still heavy. She knew she ought to go straight home, ought to see her mother and sister again, but she found at that moment that there was only one place she wanted to be. She took off at a run, heading instead for the house that was directly across from hers.

Finnick Odair answered the door thirty seconds after Athena knocked, looking slightly frazzled.

“Hi,” she said, a little breathlessly, a small smile forming on her face automatically.

“Hi,” he said, looking distracted but pleased to see her regardless. “Bad day?” he asked, studying the look on her face.

“Something like that,” she replied.

“Come in,” he said, stepping aside to give her room. “I don't even know why you still knock. I gave you a key for a reason.”

“Courtesy, I guess,” she said, stepping inside and turning around to face him, shrugging off her coat and kicking off her boots. She looked at his current attire, which was a partly buttoned-up shirt and underwear, with raised eyebrows. She hadn't lied to her sister; she had seen Finnick in varying states of undress frequently over the six years she had known him. She had also seen him completely naked, and he had seen her the same way, but that was something she conveniently forgot to to tell Calypso. It wasn’t nearly as wild and exciting and sexy as her sister would probably think it was. It was simply a result of seeing each other so often for so long, occasionally in rather confined spaces (such as the tribute train). “Clothes go missing again?”

“I just don't know where they go!” he said, feigning exasperation and grinning. “I'm glad you're here, though. I know it's been a while, but something - uh - came up.”

“What do you mean by something?”

“The Capitol,” he replied.

“The Capitol?” she repeated. “You mean Snow wants you to - ”

“Yeah, apparently the Capitol couldn't wait until the next Games to start passing me around again,” Finnick said shortly. He paused, then shot her an apologetic look, sighing and saying, “I'm sorry, this isn't your fault. But Snow came at me with this yesterday and I - I was caught off guard.”

“When do you leave?”

“Tomorrow.”

“ _What?_ ”

“That's what I thought,” he said. “Hence why I was caught off guard.”

Finnick drifted over to the sofa in the sitting room. After a few moments, Athena followed, sitting beside him. They sat silence for a time, before Finnick spoke.

“I thought maybe,” Finnick said, “with all this excitement for this Quarter Quell, and everyone being obsessed with Katniss and Peeta over in Twelve... maybe they'd just... forget about Four for a while... probably naive of me to think, huh?” Athena said nothing, though, because she had thought - had hoped for - the same thing. He hesitated for hesitated for a moment, before saying, “You haven't heard anything, I'm guessing?”

Athena bit her lip. She hadn't been called into the Capitol for a few months, and she was pretty sure she wouldn't be again until the next Games. It wasn't the first time one of them was made to go to the Capitol without the other; still, most times they could be together, and it was one of the few comforts they had when they were away from District Four. They felt less alone and worries for the other would end up being soothed, at least a little. They couldn't really do anything against the Capitol, but just being _there_ for each other always helped. She didn't like that Finnick would be by himself this time around, especially when she thought about how he had already had to be alone too often in his life...

“I don't think I have anything until the Games,” Athena said finally. “Unless Snow springs something on me, too, but...”

“Okay,” Finnick said, nodding slowly. “That's okay,” he added, though it wasn't really. He could apparently sense that she felt that way, because he said, “Hey, seriously, it's okay. I mean, I'd rather it be me than you. I'm glad you can be away from it for a little longer.”

He placed a hand on top of hers while he said it. Slowly, she turned her hand so that she could lace their fingers together, and Finnick held her hand a little tighter. Athena smiled slightly at their joined hands, and nodded once, though she still wasn't completely soothed. For a while, they just sat like that together, neither of them speaking.

“I should put on pants,” Finnick said, finally.

They let go of each other (she fought down the disappointment bubbling up inside her as best as she could), and he stood up. Athena shrugged and leaned back into the sofa, saying, “Whatever makes you comfortable.”

“I mean, I'm sure you're enjoying the view, Maris, but - ” Finnick began, smirking.

“In your dreams, Odair,” Athena cut across him firmly, and Finnick laughed as he made his way to the stairs. “Have you eaten?” she called after his retreating form. He looked over at her, and she knew just from the look on his face that he hadn't. She got to her feet and stretched, saying, “Well, I haven't eaten since this morning and I'm hungry, so you must be pretty bad. I'll make something for us right now.”

He shot her a grateful look. “Thank you, Athena -”

But Athena was already waving it away, saying, “Don't mention it, it's really nothing.”

And as he disappeared upstairs, Athena drifted over to the kitchen and got started on making dinner. Finnick resurfaced a few moments later, with pants on and the shirt buttoned up a little more, to help her. They ate together, talking little, but the silences that passed between them were comfortable and pleasant. It wasn't until they were finished washing the dishes that she realized something.

“That announcement,” she said, “about the Quarter Quell. It's in two weeks.”

The Quarter Quell was a special edition of the Hunger Games that occurred every twenty-five years, marking the anniversaries of the defeat of the districts in the rebellion during the Dark Days. Each Quell came with a theme or twist that would make them more disastrous or difficult to compete in, and for the Capitol citizens, more entertaining to watch. The themes or twists were different with each Quell and were already planned out; there was a small box with yellow envelopes inside, each of them containing the theme and twist for the appropriate Quarter Quell, planning for hundreds and hundreds of Hunger Games (the helplessness that she felt when she thought about that was always overwhelming, she tried not to linger on that). Each twist or theme was supposed to carry some sort of significance to it - essentially, it was just another way for the Capitol to assert their power over the districts, a reminder of all the horrible things they could do to them whenever they wanted.

He didn't understand the significance at first of what she was saying, until realization seemed to dawn on him.

Finnick moved a little closer to her and took her hands in his. “I'll be back for that,” he told her earnestly. “It's for less than two weeks, I come back the day of the announcement. I'll be back before you can miss me. I won’t be away from you for it, I promise.”

He brought her hands up to his lips and kissed her fingers gently. Athena watched him, doubted that she wouldn’t miss him in the time he was away, but still nodded slowly.

“I know it's selfish, I just - ”

“No, it's not,” he shook his head, taking her face in his hands. “I don't want to be away from you during it, either.”

She nodded again, smiling faintly, taking one of his hands in hers and squeezing it gently. She did feel a little better knowing that he wouldn't be over in the Capitol during the announcement, and that he wouldn't be gone for too long.

They ended up in his bedroom, sitting side-by-side, stretching out their legs and leaning against the headboard. They were talking quietly, though there was no real reason for them to be speaking in hushed tones. Their hands were placed very close, so that sometimes their fingers would brush against each other. There was nothing really for him to pack; anything he would need would be provided for him.

“I just have to take my notebooks,” Finnick said. “I have poems that I’m supposed to make up specifically for them - you know, to make them feel special and all. They’re all bullshit, some of the cheesiest stuff I’ve ever written, but they go crazy for it, so...”

Indeed, Finnick showed her some of the newer poems, and she had read others on various occasions, enough to know that he wasn’t wrong. Athena had also read a lot of Finnick’s actual poetry, so she knew he was capable of writing something much better when he didn’t have to please the Capitol.

“Actually,” he said, opening up one of his notebooks and grabbing a pen, “I’m getting inspiration right now. Give me a second.”

He set to work, scribbling a new poem onto the page. She let him work in silence, watching him from the corner of her eye, at the way he seemed so focused in his writing. She smiled to herself, thinking he looked adorable like that, though she would never dare say _that_ aloud. _That_ was dangerous. _That_ led to crossing lines that could not be uncrossed.

“What?” he asked, raising his eyebrows and smiling at her, evidently noticing the look she had been giving him.

“Nothing,” she shook her head and looked away quickly. “I just think it's cool... you know, watching an artist at work.”

A grin spread slowly across his face, and Athena’s heart lightened at the dimples that appeared as he did. “You know I love my fans.”

“You ruined it,” she said, and he laughed.

“If it fixes thing, I feel the same way sometimes too, watching you do your art.”

“It fixes it a little,” she said matter-of-factly, and he smiled.

Before long, he was handing her the new poem for her to read. As usual, it was rather cheesy, the sentences melodramatic and the metaphors shallow and rather insincere, but it was the sort of thing the Capitol would go crazy over, the sort of thing that would make the Capitol love Finnick even more, so it was serving its purpose.

“It’s beautiful,” she said when she was finished, handing the notebook back to him. “I was particularly impressed by the line where you said their dyed skin looked like the icing on all your favourite cakes.”

“I thought that was pretty poetic,” Finnick agreed with a grin, tossing the notebook back on his bedside table.

Silence passed between them, but it wasn't awkward. It was comfortable and welcoming and familiar, the kind that came with six years of knowing a person in nearly every way they _can_ be known. Athena glanced over at him, more concerned this time.

“How are you feeling?” she asked. “About Snow making you go earlier than usual and giving you so little time to get ready and just in general?”

Finnick shrugged, avoiding her eyes. “I'm fine,” he said, which they both knew was a lie. “I'm not doing anything I'm not used to. And it's an excuse to get out of this house. It feels like I'm the only person in the world sometimes, living alone here. It helps, though, having you around so often,” he continued. “You and your mother and sister and Mags and Annie and everyone.”

She nodded, and brushed her fingers against his, applying just enough pressure that he would know it was purposeful. It was a method of acknowledgement, of understanding, a declaration that she felt the same way. They sat in silence for a little longer, while Athena thought about her conversation with Calypso that morning. _“You’re way too scared he'll realize that you've secretly been in love with him this whole time.”_ The most infuriating thing about that assessment was that it wasn’t even entirely _wrong_. Falling in love with Finnick Odair was not a particularly surprising thing, without the dramatic moment of revelation that the Capitol would likely love. There was no grand moment of realization, no insistent denial of her feelings, none of it. It was a subtle, almost gentle sort of moment while they were on the deck of Finnick’s boat, the waves lapping against the hull gently. She looked over at him, his face awash with light from the setting sun, and only thought, _Oh. Oh, I’m in love with you,_ and that was that. It wasn’t particularly quick or sudden, either. She sank into love slowly, unable to help it, though she didn’t fight against it very much. She realized what was happening, where she was going, and accepted it - chose it, almost. It was a thing of inevitability, she thought, something a part of her knew would always happen. Finnick, she thought sometimes, sank right into it with her, but she ignored that. She ignored it and blocked all thoughts of it from her mind as best as she could. She was fairly certain he only viewed her as a friend, and besides, it was easier that way. It was easier if unreciprocated feelings stood in their way instead of a thin white-haired man who lived miles and miles away. That was what she had to believe. That was she made herself believe. That was what she believed.

They had to be careful around each other, especially whenever they were in the Capitol. They were allowed to flirt playfully with each other, playing up their desirability, but outside of that, they couldn't really do anything. They couldn't be in love and keep the Capitol happy. Part of Snow's conditions in his forced deal with Finnick was that he had to make the Capitol citizens who bought him truly believe he was in love with them. And there were still people from the Capitol who were desperate for Athena to be on the market as well, to be able to buy her, too, if only for a night. They couldn't love their fellow mentor, some girl or some boy back home, if they wanted to keep the Capitol off their backs. They couldn't be in love and keep the Capitol happy. That was another thing about admitting how she felt to Finnick. Admitting she was in love was admitting defeat. It was admitting that she loved him and it didn't even matter, not really, because they were still trapped.

“What - what are you doing tomorrow?” he asked after a while.

She shrugged. “Not sure yet. I don’t have to work at all, so I’m free to do what I want all day. Why?”

He looked down at his hands as he folded, looking sheepish. “I was just - I was wondering if you’d wait with me at the train station? It’s supposed to be here early in the morning, but I usually have to show up early, and it’s - I just don’t - I don’t really want to be there alone.”

Athena nodded, smiling reassuringly. “Of course. I’ll be there.”

“Thank you,” he smiled gratefully, taking one of her hands and bringing them to his lips again, kissing it quickly.

“Hey,” Athena said casually, pretending her heart didn't skip a beat when he brought her hands to his lips, “don’t mention it. I mean, it's not like I have anything better to do.”

Finnick shrugged. “Still. I appreciate it. Besides, for all I knew, you could've been educating the future of District Four about how to properly tie a knot.”

“No,” Athena said, “I don't see the future again until next week.”

“How are they all coming along, by the way?” Finnick asked.

“They're doing okay,” Athena replied, shrugging. “They're improving fast, especially considering a lot of them didn't know how to do _anything_ when they started. I'm really proud of them.”

“You talk like they're your actual kids,” Finnick said with raised eyebrows.

“I mean, I am raising them, in a way,” she pointed out, yawning and stretching. “It's a big responsibility, you know.”

“Just don't sign any adoption papers, Wise One,” he said, though he looked amused. “Next thing I know you'll be wanting to bring in new futures of District Four.”

“Oh, don't worry, that won't be a problem,” she said, and she meant it. She couldn't imagine having children, now or ever, after all she had been through... even if she could be ready for such a thing one day, her status as a victor and the protection it brought her didn't extend to any of the people she loved unless they were also victors, not even family. She wouldn't be able to protect any child of hers from the Games, from increasingly aggressive Peacekeepers, from all the ways the Capitol controlled the districts, from the mounting tension in Panem... she couldn't bear to bring a child into all the cruelty and suffering Panem brought, especially since she'd be utterly incapable of protecting them (Athena really did understand it, the way her parents would worry and worry and worry over her and Calypso, the stress that would so often hang from them and the sadness with which they would look at them).

Athena let out a sigh, tilting her head back against the wall and closing her eyes, saying tiredly, “I'm never having kids, Finnick. Not as long as I live.”

Finnick was silent for a moment, before he said, slightly hesitantly, “Would you reconsider that if Panem wasn't the way it is?”

“But it is the way it is.”

“But what if it wasn't?” he insisted. “What if you woke up and Snow had suddenly died of mysterious causes and the Capitol had fallen apart and the districts were free to live however they wanted? Would that change things?”

Athena wasn't sure why Finnick wanted to know so badly. Still, she thought it over. True, it was mainly the fact that she didn't want to bring a child into all the terrible things in Panem that made her not want children, and if that wasn’t a factor, then she wouldn't have much to worry about. Still, Athena wasn't sure if, after everything, she could really ever feel secure enough to have and raise a child properly. But maybe that was just because the reality that Finnick described sounded so far away, so surreal that she couldn't really, truly imagine it.

“I might reconsider,” she said finally, shrugging and opening her eyes again.

“I would,” he stated. “Have kids, I mean - you know, eventually. If I knew they would have something better than all of this.”

He gestured around the room vaguely. Athena could imagine it, too, Finnick raising children with his sea green eyes and his dimples. She smiled a little at the thought, though it made her feel an odd combination of light- and heavy-hearted.

“Well,” Athena said at last, “for now, I have my adopted trainees.”

Before long, Finnick shifted so that he was lying down on the bed instead of leaning against the headboard. After a few moments, Athena followed suit. Athena was staring up at the ceiling, her brow furrowed. Her mind was a mess of thoughts of what she had seen on the water earlier, Finnick beside her, of how tomorrow he would be gone, left in the Capitol’s clutches for two weeks...

Finnick, however, was looking at her.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, and really, it should be her asking him that, considering where he would be going tomorrow and what he would be forced to do once he was there, but he was looking at her with genuine concern on his face.

“Nothing,” she whispered back, looking over at him. She thought about it for a moment. “Everything. Most things.”

He seemed to understand at once, nodding. “It's like that,” he agreed. “Sometimes. Most times.”

“Too much,” was all Athena said.

For a moment, he only looked at her; then, he reached out slowly, almost tentatively, until his hand was cupping her cheek, his thumb brushing the dark brown skin lightly. Athena's hand went to his wrist, wrapping her fingers around it loosely. They were still looking at each other. Finnick had an expression on his face that was hard to read even despite all the years she had known him, but she could detect wistfulness there.

“Too much,” he agreed.

Athena shifted to place her head on his chest. She always reveled in this; feeling his heart rate gradually slowing down, the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed, the warmth of his body, the way his arms would go around her and they both felt a little less tense than usual. Finnick, his voice groggy and slow as he started to drift off to sleep, murmured something that included either “so much” or “too much.” She was going to ask him about it, but she couldn't get the words out before she had sunken into sleep.


	3. II

**II**

 

Athena woke gradually, her eyes opening slowly, still groggy. Then she opened them wider when she realized she wasn't in her bedroom. Panic surged through her immediately, and she was about to jump to her feet when she realized she was in Finnick's room. She glanced over and saw Finnick beside her, lying with his arms wrapped loosely around her, starting to stir now that she had moved. She lied back, relaxing her tense muscles, relieved. They must have accidentally fallen asleep the previous night. It wouldn't have been the first time it happened. Somehow, they had ended up under the blankets, curled up even closer together than they had been when they had first fallen asleep. Athena regretted the momentary fit she had had, because now Finnick was awake, staring over at her, and she would've liked for him to sleep a while longer, for him to be more rested.

“Sorry,” she murmured. “Forgot where I was for a second, I panicked.”

“Don't worry,” he said lightly, running a finger up and down her arms mindlessly. “It's fine. What time is it?”

She glanced over at the clock behind him, squinting against the light of the rising sun from the window. “Five past six.”

“There's still time, then,” he said, looking relieved. “Not much, but...”

He wrapped his arms a little tighter around her, burying his head in her shoulder. She smiled a little at the action, tracing shapes along his arm.

“It's enough,” he said finally.

He didn't specify what it was enough for, but Athena understood. The time that was left, no matter how little of it there was, would be enough to prepare him for what came next. And this, this moment of peace, would be enough to get him through the next two weeks.

It was early in the morning, so that there was still a slight chill that made them move closer together almost instinctively, but the window bathed them with golden light that warmed them up slowly. She almost begrudged it, because it took away their excuse to stay curled up so close together, and indeed, much too soon, Finnick was moving away from her, with traces of reluctance in his movements, saying he ought to get ready. She let him leave, staying in bed, smiling a little at the way the sheets smelled like him, until he had returned from the shower, a towel wrapped around his waist and his tan skin glistening from the water droplets, bronze hair soaking wet. Only then did she drag herself out of the warmth of his bed and over to the bathroom. She brushed her teeth and showered quickly, before exiting the bathroom again. Finnick was gone, but she figured he was just in another part of the house. Athena hadn't been planning to spend the night at Finnick’s, but she had also done it so often that she had a decent stash of extra clothes specifically for occasions like this. She threw on an outfit, fixed her hair quickly, and went downstairs.

“I smell food,” she commented loudly as she descended, her stomach grumbling as she sniffed the air.

“That's because there is food,” Finnick's voice called back to her, and indeed, she walked into the dining room to find him setting plates out on the table. He gestured to the table, smiling a little as he said, “I made breakfast.”

A smile spread slowly across her face as she looked at the table, saying, “Thank you, Finnick. I could’ve helped, though - ”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said at once. “I was happy to.”

They sat to eat in pleasant silence. When they were finished, Finnick went upstairs, saying he needed to get his notebooks before he left. He took much longer than grabbing notebooks really warranted, but Athena didn’t press the matter because she knew he needed a moment alone to brace himself for what came next. When he came down at last, Athena was at the window, staring out at the sky, the sun tinging the winter clouds to a warmer, orange and purple colour. She heard Finnick approaching, but said nothing as he moved to stand beside her at the window, his notebooks clutched in one hand.

“Pretty,” he commented.

“It is,” Athena agreed. “Maybe I’ll paint it for you. Have it for you when you get back.”

Finnick smiled faintly. “Something to look forward to, I guess.”

She tore her eyes away from the view from the window to look up at Finnick, sea green eyes (it had taken her so, so long - so many paintings - to find the colour that matched them perfectly) drifting over to meet hers.

“Train’s going to be here soon,” he whispered.

Athena nodded once in understanding. She extended her hand towards him. “Then let’s go.”

Finnick took her hand, and she led the way out of the house, out of Victor’s Village, through the walk that seemed so long that morning to District Four’s train station. When they arrived, they released each other’s hands immediately and simply sat side by side on one of the benches, talking quietly as they waited. They were quick to stand as the sleek train came into view and stopped in front of them. They turned to face each other and hugged, pulling each other close.

“I’ll be here when you get back,” she whispered. “All of us will be.”

“Two weeks,” he muttered, as though he was reminding himself just as much as her. “Two weeks and then I’ll be back.”

And then they pulled away, because this moment was doubtlessly being filmed to build up excitement for Finnick’s arrival in the Capitol, and the last thing they needed was the Capitol to interpret this as anything but platonic. Athena and Finnick exchanged one last lingering look, she gave him a smile and a nod, and he boarded the train. Finnick waved to her once he was on the train, and Athena barely had time to raise her own hand in farewell before the door of the train was sliding closed and the train was moving away from the station at its usual breathtaking speed. It seemed as though the train - and Finnick with it - were gone within the blink of an eye, the span of a breath... Athena simply stared at the spot he had been a moment before for several moments, before forcing herself to turn away, shoving her hands in her coat pockets, and beginning to walk away, alone now.

She was back in Victor’s Village soon, at her front doorstep, unlocking the door and stepping into the house. As soon as she did, a voice called out, “There you are, Athena!” It was her mother, who appeared at the doorway of the sitting room, followed shortly by Calypso, saying, “You didn’t come back all day yesterday, and you were gone all night too... we were getting worried...”

Athena suddenly felt guilty. When she was younger she had definitely been given more freedom than others her age, since her parents had always trusted her and she tended to need to take on more than enough adult responsibilities, and she was an adult now, but that didn’t mean her mother didn’t worry about her. Especially since her Games, and especially recently, as tensions only seemed to mount in Panem... being gone all day and night without telling them must’ve worried both her mother and Calypso.

“I’m sorry, Mom,” Athena said, reaching up and kissing her temple, making her posture relax just slightly so that Athena smiled and knew her mother wasn’t really upset. “I had a bad day at work, so I was by myself for a while, then I went to see Finnick and we lost track of time. I ended up falling asleep at his place. He had to go to the Capitol this morning, so I went with him to the train station to see him off. And now I’m here.”

“I should’ve known you’d be with him,” her mother said, clicking her tongue. “Well,” she said shortly, “we’ve already had breakfast.”

“That’s okay,” Athena shrugged, “I ate at Finnick’s.”

“What’d he need to go to the Capitol for?” Calypso asked, curious.

“They missed him,” Athena said, a little shortly. “So they invited him to visit for two weeks. It’s an offer you don’t wanna refuse.”

Her mother and Calypso understood immediately, the both of them nodding.

“How is he?” her mother asked, frowning, her brow furrowed.

“The best he can be,” Athena shrugged, a little helplessly. “I just wish he didn’t have to be alone...”

“Hey,” her mother said, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t blame yourself, Thena. There’s nothing you could do.”

 _I know,_ Athena thought. _That’s the problem._

But she only said, “I just worry about him...”

“That’s natural,” her mother said, “but he’ll be okay. He’s strong.”

“Yeah,” Calypso said in agreement, “Finnick’ll be fine.”

Athena made herself simply nod and smile. She turned to her mother, changing the subject swiftly as she said, “How are you?”

“I’m okay,” she replied, which Athena could tell wasn’t entirely true. “I got more sleep yesterday.”

Marella Maris was much more tired than usual lately, but couldn’t sleep very much regardless. None of them said it, but they had all been terrified that she was developing the same illness that had plagued Athena's father. They went to the doctor about it, who insisted her mother was perfectly healthy. In the end, they had to chalk it up to stress and the grief that still existed in all of them at the death of Douglas Maris; after all, he was the love of her life, she always said it...

“That’s good,” Athena said. “Do you work today?”

“I’m helping out at the markets,” she replied. “In fact, I should get going now. I’ll see you both later.”

She kissed both of them on the temple, before throwing on her coat and hurrying out of the house. When she was gone, Calypso turned to look at her sister, a little tentatively.

“Athena,” she said hesitantly.

Athena looked over at her, eyebrows slightly raised, “Yeah?”

“Can you - can you walk me to school?” Calypso asked sheepishly, staring down at the ground.

Athena stared at her in surprise; it had been years since Athena had walked her sister to the academy. Some time around the time Calypso turned twelve, she started insisting that she could walk to and from school on her own and that having Athena go with her was embarrassing, and so Athena had backed off accordingly. “You want me to?”

“Well... yeah,” said Calypso. “It's harder than I remember it. And the kids there look at me funny now... like they know I don't belong there. Maybe if you went with me... it'll be better. And maybe you can get them to back off.”

“Are you saying you want to use my status as a victor to intimidate your classmates?” Athena asked, staring at her sister through slightly narrowed eyes.

“Well, it's not just that,” Calypso replied, before adding with a slightly sheepish grin, “but also... yes?”

Athena studied Calypso closely for a moment, before shrugging, grinning, and saying, “Hey - what are sisters for? Of course I'll walk you to school. Come on.”

And though she had only just taken them off, she put on her leather boots and her brown coat, waited for her sister to finish getting ready, and the two of them were out the door. Thick, grey clouds were starting to block out the sun, and Athena suspected it wouldn’t be long until it started snowing. This winter was much worse than normal. Athena pulled her coat tighter about her, moved a little closer to Calypso, and kept walking.

They reached the academy as students were lingering in the courtyard, avoiding the inevitable of having to start the school day. They were being supervised by the headmaster and one of the instructors, who both somehow caught sight of Athena and Calypso.

“It’s nice to see you around here, Athena!” the headmaster called to her.

“I swear they have a sixth sense when it comes to victors,” Athena whispered to a grinning Calypso, but smiled and said, “It’s nice to be back, sir!”

“We hope to see you as an instructor one day!”

“One day, sir!” Athena called back, waving, then muttered to her sister, “Over all our dead bodies.”

Calypso giggled, then stopped slowly as she caught sight a girl her age with dark brown eyes, sleek black hair, and olive skin. Calypso smiled at the sight of her.

“That’s Sirena, right?” Athena said, recognizing her. Calypso nodded once. “Okay, you should be good from here, then,” said Athena, before adding, with an amused smile, “Unless you want me to walk you to all your classes...?”

“ _Please_ don't do that,” Calypso said, and Athena laughed. “I can take it from here. Besides, in terms of intimidating everyone, that mission’s already been accomplished. Everyone’s already remembering that my big sister is great, strong, super famous victor, which should be enough to get everyone to be nice, at least.”

Athena noticed Calypso had a point. Many of the other students were staring at Athena with either intimidation or wide-eyed admiration, and they looked at Calypso with either admiration, intimidation, or jealousy that she was so closely related to such a well-known and well-loved victor.

“I was happy to help,” Athena said with a grin. “You need me back after school, too?”

“I think I’ll be okay,” Calypso responded. “Thank you, though. I appreciate it a lot”

“Hey, like I said, what are sisters for?” Athena said with a smile. Calypso smiled back at her, and she nudged her forward a little. “Now off you go.”

Calypso nodded, bid her goodbye, and took off at a run toward Sirena, calling out, “Hey, Sirena!” as she went. Sirena turned when her name was called, and beamed at the sight of Calypso running towards her. When they were beside each other, they threw their arms around each other and, after a moment, made their way up the steps inside the large brick building of the academy. Athena smiled as she watched them go; she knew Sirena was a great girl, vibrant and genuine and down-to-earth and reliable, and she would always be grateful Calypso had someone like that.

Athena shoved her hands in her pockets, turned around, and made to walk away, but she found her path barred by two Peacekeepers. She tried not to tense visibly. She had never been in a situation where she was confronted by two Peacekeepers and it turned out to be a positive thing, and especially nowadays, staying away from Peacekeepers was typically a good way to stay out of trouble.

After all, Peacekeepers roamed the streets of District Four in fours and fives now, all much more violent than they used to be. Not to say that Peacekeepers had ever been particularly kind or peaceful, the way their name might suggest, but they certainly used to be more passive. Now they were prone to loud and aggressive interrogations in the middle of the street, roughly patting down anyone who appeared to be even remotely suspicious, and even public beatings, none of which used to be all that common in comparison to other districts. Athena and other victors, simply because of their status, have been spared this sort of treatment so far. Still, Athena witnessed it so frequently as of late that her stomach still turned unpleasantly whenever she passed any Peacekeepers. Her mother and sister have both been subjected to these interrogations and frisking on multiple occasions, having to eventually be rescued by Athena. But more Peacekeepers were still arriving in droves, and she was beginning to suspect that her status as victor wouldn't protect even herself for long, let alone her mother and Calypso.

Which was why Athena tensed when she saw them right in front of her and had to remind herself that she had done nothing wrong. They had probably followed her and Calypso here, which didn't help her nerves.

“Come with us,” the first Peacekeeper said.

“Can I ask why?”

“Mayor Trenton has sent for you,” said the second Peacekeeper.

“The mayor? Why?” Athena asked, confused.

“She would like to see you immediately,” said the second Peacekeeper, which either meant they didn't know or they were purposely withholding the information from her, probably to scare her.

“Right,” Athena said shortly. There was nothing for it but to do as they said. “Let's go, then.”

The two Peacekeepers flanked her as they made their way to the Justice Building. They kept their hands on their guns the whole way there, which was nothing but a ridiculous reminder of their power because they must have known by then that she wouldn't dare try anything. She supposed she should just be glad there were only two of them this time around. When they were outside of the mayor's office, the first Peacekeeper reached out to knock on the door once.

“Come in,” came the mayor's voice from the other side of the door.

The Peacekeepers opened the double doors of the mayor's office, and the three of them walked into the room. Mayor Isla Trenton was at her desk, looking up from her papers at the new visitors. Even from across the room, Athena could tell that Mayor Trenton was tired and worn out, dark circles under her round, monolid eyes, loose strands of her falling from her long, shiny black hair.

“Oh, Athena, wonderful!” Mayor Trenton said. “I didn't expect them to find you so soon.” Athena said nothing. Mayor Trenton seemed to sense how tense she was, because she looked to the two Peacekeepers and said, “Wait outside.” When they lingered for a moment, Mayor Trenton said, more firmly, “Wait outside. I can take it from here.”

Finally, the two Peacekeepers left the room, closing the double doors behind them. Mayor Trenton looked back at Athena with a smile.

“Athena,” she said. “It's been so long. Please, have a seat.”

Athena would've rather stayed standing, but she knew she shouldn't defy the mayor - at least, not this early in the conversation - so she sat down in the chair opposite her.

“How have you been?” Mayor Trenton asked, lacing her fingers together and looking at Athena as though examining her.

“Fine,” Athena said automatically. “How are you?”

“As a matter of fact, Athena, I've been quite tense as of late.”

“Being the mayor sounds like a stressful job,” was all Athena said.

Mayor Trenton smiled. “It is indeed, but more so than usual recently. In fact, I just got off the phone with several Capitol officials, including President Snow himself. Can you guess what we were discussing?”

“I can only imagine,” Athena said, not understanding why the mayor was discussing this with her. “Something light and breezy, I hope.”

Mayor Trenton smiled, but said, “Not quite, I'm afraid. No, Athena, we were actually talking about exports from District Four - specifically, the lack of them.”

Athena said nothing. She only raised her eyebrows slightly and pretended to be surprised that this would be a topic of discussion.

“I’m sure by now you've realised that there's been a significant decrease in the amount of seafood District Four has been sending to the Capitol,” the mayor said, “especially since you work so often at the docks...”

“There's been bad conditions,” Athena said simply. “We always catch less during the winter, and this one's been worse than usual.”

“Except the amount of seafood being exported is very low even when you account the weather conditions, and this situation predates the winter by some months,” replied the mayor. “Now I’ve approached your captain, Hudson, on the topic, and she hasn’t given me much information.”

“ _The Adventurer_ is dedicated to catching seafood that stays within the district,” Athena pointed out. “We're the wrong people to contact over something like this. You might have better luck with the ships that catch the seafood that’s exported.”

“I’ve contacted their captains as well,” Mayor Trenton admitted, looking a little embarrassed now. “They’ve given me little to work with.”

“I'm sorry, Mayor Trenton,” Athena said, “but I don't think there's anything I can give you that you didn't already get from Hudson and the other captains.”

Mayor Trenton only said, “Well, we'll have to see about that.”

Athena kept her face neutral. This was just like trading and selling at the markets, just like her time in the Capitol; it was just dealing in information, deciding how much she wanted to let the mayor know. And in this particular case, the less the mayor knew, the better, because as she said, there was much more to this situation that unideal weather conditions.

Things were changing in District Four, and they were changing rapidly. The atmosphere was much more tense all throughout the district; it was almost like an electric current was running through them all, bringing them all on edge. It was a call for rebellion, for justice - for some, a cry for vengeance, too - muted, of course, for their own safety, but still very present in a way it had not always been. Athena had sensed it building for years now, ever since her victory six years ago. She had not been a typical victor, killing ruthlessly and praising the Games and the Capitol ceaselessly. There had been hints of rebellion in her behaviour in the arena, from the way she put up signs in honour of the dead tributes, to the way she avoided killing at all costs. Those hints of rebellion had continued in the speeches she gave during her Victory Tour, until President Snow had gotten to her and forced her to give the Capitol-approved speeches written for her by Alayne Stentor, the Capitol escort for District Four. Athena hadn't meant for her actions to be taken in any rebellious way; she had only been doing what she felt was right, but it was clear that it had caused a shift in District Four. Snow forced her to do more interviews, appear in more magazines, attend more televised Capitol events for her to be gawked at and admired and danced with by Capitol citizens, give more speeches that praised the Capitol and implored the districts to continue serving and protecting the beating heart of Panem. It was all done to reverse the damage Athena had done (and, she knew, to punish her for her doses of rebellion, for causing that damage in the first place), but it seemed there was no reversing the effect she had had on her home district. Recently, though, there had been an even bigger shift in Four, so that it felt like sparks burning, just before an explosion from which there was no recovering. The people who had caused that change weren't from District Four, instead hailing from District Twelve.

Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark - the victors of the recent Seventy-Fourth Annual Hunger Games. Two victors. Something that had never happened in the history of Panem. Their mere survival was an act of rebellion, though they were trying their hardest not to present it as such. Instead, they presented it as an act of love, two star-crossed lovers who had been desperate to stay together. The Capitol, of course, was eating it up, but very few people in the districts were buying the act - not that Katniss and Peeta weren’t trying, because they certainly were. They held hands and kissed while they were on stage to make their speeches during the Victory Tour. They made constant proclamations of their love and how it saved them. They were even engaged now. In a way, it was almost easy to resent Katniss and Peeta. They were given this golden opportunity, this chance to be able to love each other openly without risking punishment from the Capitol, and they weren't even really in love. Besides, they both got to make it. The two of them got out of there together, neither of them had to die, and Kai Emerson was... but she knew she couldn't really resent them for something that wasn't their fault, something that fell on the Capitol and President Snow. It wasn't the faults of two teenagers from District Twelve that Snow wouldn't rest until he ruined everyone from the districts. Really, she felt quite sorry for them; they were only two teenagers who had just wanted to go home, and now they were being punished for surviving, forced to keep up a love affair that wasn’t genuine, and now they would have to get married...

And there was still no erasing their impact in the districts. There had been riots in District Eleven after the death of the young girl from their district, Rue, and it only escalated from there. There was a riot in District Eight after Katniss and Peeta visited the district on their victory tour, the first act of open rebellion against the Capitol since the Dark Days; they managed to secure the Peacekeepers’ headquarters, the Justice Building, the armory, and the Communications Center simply by catching the Peacekeepers off guard, but the Capitol sent in so many reinforcements that eventually they were defeated, many of them injured or killed. For a period of time, the entire district was set under martial law; there was a lockdown where none of the citizens were allowed to leave their homes, and food and electricity supply were cut off. The only time the television showed anything other than static was when they showed suspected rebel instigators being executed. After, life was allowed to return to normal, but one of District Eight’s factories were bombed when it was suspected that the rebellion had been planned there (Athena suspected the Capitol just wanted to punish and frighten District Eight into submission even more).

And the crowd in District Four when Katniss and Peeta visited for their Victory Tour was unlike anything she had ever seen in her home district... there was a genuine elation at the sight of Katniss and Peeta on stage, and under that elation, fury. As they chanted Katniss’ name, it sounded more like a cry for vengeance than a cheer. When the Peacekeepers tried to control the unruly crowd, they pressed back instead of retreating. Athena and Finnick were together for this speech, watching this happen around them, before exchanging significant looks. They walked back to Victor’s Village together afterward, taking a different route than usual. The detour made the journey back to Victor's Village a longer one, but the route was more secluded, allowing them to talk more freely - though not by much.

“Shame we can't meet them,” Finnick had said. “That's an opportunity I'm sad to miss.”

Typically, new victors would meet with old victors during the Victory Tour, which was filmed and photographed, since it was the sort of thing the Capitol would eat up. This year, it didn’t happen, and though they weren’t given a precise reason as to why, they knew it was likely because seeing other victors talk to Katniss and Peeta, who were becoming symbols of the rebellion - particularly Katniss - would likely encourage the people in the districts to rebel further, make people think they had more influential people on their side.

“You're a fan?” said Athena, raising her eyebrows.

“Aren't you?” he retorted. “They’re legends.”

“That’s one word for it,” Athena agreed.

“What’s another word, then?” Finnick asked.

“Depends on who you ask,” she had shrugged in reply. “To some, rebels. Heroes. Other people... a problem.”

“Those people aren’t the kind of people I’m very fond of,” was all he said, his hands in his pockets.

“Me neither,” Athena nodded, “I’m just saying. There are a lot of words being thrown around when it comes to the two of them. You’re not the only fan, though. It would’ve been interesting to meet them, and I’m sure that whole crowd would’ve liked it, too.”

“That crowd was something else,” Finnick said. He was thoughtful for a moment, his brow furrowed, before he turned to Athena and asked, “Do you think it’s going to calm down? Or is it all downhill from here?”

“I don’t know how far it’s going to go,” Athena admitted, and it scared her a little to think about it. “But I wouldn’t be surprised if it went further.”

“Mhm, me too,” Finnick said.

There had been much on both on their minds, but they didn’t say anything else after that. Even though it was just the two of them, it felt too dangerous to go any further.

And then there was District Four’s exports. A few months ago, the captains of all of District Four’s ships and many of its shopkeepers and tradespeople had all met in secret and come to an agreement; that they would begin exporting less and less of their seafood to the Capitol. The changes were minimal at first, but the amount of seafood exported decreased gradually. The rest of the seafood would be traded or sold to the shopkeepers and tradespeople in secret. Everyone who worked on the docks knew about this, of course, and Hudson, who was one of the biggest forces behind this agreement (something that did not surprise Athena at all; Hudson had lost her son to the Games, and if there was anyone who would be a driving force behind a rebellion, it was Hudson), had trusted her with all of the information, though she tried not to involve her in it more than needed (despite Athena insisting that she would do what she had to). The rest of the district had probably caught onto it when they realized that the amount of seafood they were getting was more or less the same, though. At first, it seemed the Capitol didn’t notice the decrease in exports from Four; now, it seemed, they were taking notice and they wanted answers.

And now, Athena was facing Mayor Trenton, trying to act as though there was nothing to this situation but unfortunate weather conditions. In all likelihood, Mayor Trenton probably suspected what was going on, but she knew, in some part of her mind, that she couldn’t tell the truth without getting several citizens, good people, arrested or killed or worse. She needed to give an explanation that could still keep the people of her district safe.

“I guess we will,” Athena said finally. “But I really do think I’m going to end up disappointing you today, Mayor Trenton.”

“You mean to say there really isn’t anything to this but bad weather conditions?” Mayor Trenton asked.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” Athena nodded.

“And what exactly should I tell, say, President Snow the next time he contacts me and asks me why the Capitol is receiving such a low supply of seafood from us?” Mayor Trenton said, staring up at her with raised eyebrows.

“The truth, I guess,” Athena said, shrugging. “We’ve been having really bad weather this past while. It’s not like you haven’t been experiencing it for yourself. It’s been hard for us to catch the same amount of seafood as usual, and not to mention, it’s straight up dangerous for us to be out there on the water some days. If we die while we’re out at sea, how exactly are we supposed to be able to get more seafood to them?”

“This explanation fails to account for the months prior to the winter when this began happening,” she insisted. “As President Snow will doubtlessly take note of.”

“Mayor Trenton, I really don’t know what you want me to tell you,” Athena said, spreading her hands in a rather helpless fashion. “I’m just someone who works at the docks sometimes.”

“But you're more than that,” the mayor insisted. “You're one of Hudson's most trusted workers. And you're a victor. You have influence. Surely you could pull some strings - ?”

“Am I supposed to stop the bad weather?” Athena asked. “Do you think if I tell the winter to go away, it'll listen?”

“You know that's not what I'm saying!” Mayor Trenton said, frustrated. “I'm saying you have a responsibility to this district and you aren't fulfilling it!”

Athena stared at her for a moment, before saying finally, “Am I in trouble, Mayor Trenton?”

The mayor sighed, rubbed her face blearily, and said, “No. No, Athena, you're not in trouble. I wouldn't want you to think that - ”

“But you do.”

Mayor Trenton's eyebrows shot up. “I'm sorry?”

“You do want me to think I'm in trouble. You're sitting here talking about how I haven’t been fulfilling my responsibility to the district. And when you brought me here... you know I have a telephone in my house, Mayor Trenton. You have a telephone in your office, right there,” she nodded at the telephone on the wall behind her. “If you wanted me to come here, you could've called and I would've come. Instead you sent two Peacekeepers with guns to escort me here. Because you wanted me to be tense. You wanted me to think that I was in trouble, that something was wrong. You wanted me to be scared. If I'm scared, you have a better chance of getting me to give you what you want, to do what you want. And I don't blame you. The most powerful man in the country has a problem and wants you to fix it, and the things he could do if you don't... it's no small responsibility. I understand.

“Look, Mayor Trenton,” Athena continued, “I have a lot of respect for you and I always have, and you've done a lot for me and my family and I'll always be grateful to you for that, but I won't be manipulated that easily.”

For a moment, they merely stared at each other. It was a risk, she knew, saying all those things to the mayor of the district, but she knew she had made the right move. It put them on as close to an even playing field as they would get. Mayor Trenton had no more tricks left for her.

“I have a job to do,” Mayor Trenton said at last.

“I know that.”

“It’s not an easy job.”

“I know that.”

“I have to give the Capitol some sort of explanation, and it has to be good.”

“I know that,” Athena said again. “And I know if there’s anyone who can get through this while keeping her citizens safe, it’s you, Mayor Trenton. But I can’t give you the help you think I can. There’s really nothing I can say to you about this except that it’s just the result of bad weather and bad luck. That’s all.”

Mayor Trenton let out another sigh, and she looked worn out all over again. Athena felt rather bad for her. It must be a terrible weight to have on your shoulders; to have a strong suspicion of what was happening, to have to act unaware to protect yourself, to be unsure of how to stop it without hurting the people you were supposed to protect, and to be unsure of what to say without hurting yourself or the people you were supposed to protect. But Athena knew there wasn’t much she could do for her.

“If you’re so worried about it, you can tell him that I told you to say that,” Athena said all the same. “Me and President Snow are good friends. He knows I’d never lie to him.”

She knew Mayor Trenton would never say such a thing, though; one, because she actually did like Athena and didn’t want to implicate her in this mess, and two, because it would mean she was confronting Athena rather than people with actual power.

Mayor Trenton let out a third sigh, shook her head, and said, “Never you mind, Athena. It was my mistake, involving someone as young as you in matters of politics. I’m sure it’s the last thing you want to think about.”

Athena said nothing.

“I’m sure you have much to do,” Mayor Trenton said finally. “As do I.”

Athena recognized the dismissal in those words and stood up at once, rather relieved. She nodded to the mayor once. “Mayor Trenton. Good luck.”

Mayor Trenton smiled faintly. “Thank you. I’ll need it.”

Athena walked over to the door, but no sooner had she opened it did the two Peacekeepers walk into the room, flanking her again with their hands on their guns. Athena turned back to Mayor Trenton and said, “Would you mind telling our little friends that I can find the exit on my own?”

Mayor Trenton let out a sigh, but said, “Let her go.”

Slowly, the two Peacekeepers backed off again. Athena turned to Mayor Trenton, nodded once, and said, “Thank you.” She eyed the Peacekeepers warily, but headed out of the office without another word.

It was beginning to snow when Athena stepped out of the Justice Building, shoving her hands in the pockets of her coat again as she made her way back to Victor’s Village. She was so lost in thought of her conversation with the mayor and the state of Panem that she didn’t take in the world around her until she heard a very familiar voice cry out, “Wait, no! Please!”

Athena looked around and saw that, across the road from her, Annie Cresta was being confronted by three Peacekeepers. One of them stood in front of her, while the other two flanked the first, clearly ready to back them up if necessary. Annie was staring at them with green eyes wide with fear, snow falling in her long brown hair, trying to back away. The first Peacekeeper pulled out their gun, and Athena reacted immediately.

“Wait!”

Athena raced forward across the road, her hands up in the air the moment the Peacekeepers turned their attentions to her. They tensed but did nothing as Athena ran until she stood in between Annie and the three Peacekeepers.

“Wait!” she said again, catching her breath, which fogged in the cold air. “Wait! What do you think you’re doing?”

“I don’t see how that’s your business,” the first Peacekeeper said roughly.

“It looked to me like you were about to hurt an innocent woman,” Athena said. “That concerns me a lot.”

“And what makes you think she’s innocent?” the Peacekeeper sneered.

“What makes you think she’s not?” Athena retorted.

“She was walking by herself, looking around shiftily, smiling like she knew something we didn’t.”

 _She probably knows a lot of things you don’t,_ Athena thought, but said, “And that means she’s not innocent?”

“You don’t know what she might have been planning,” the Peacekeeper retorted. “People have been getting bold all across Panem, maybe she wanted to join in and rebel.”

Athena let out a long-suffering sigh, but turned to Annie, her hands still in the air, and said, “Annie, are you planning on carrying out any acts of rebellion?”

“No?” Annie said, still looking terrified and like she wasn’t entirely sure how she got in this position.

“See? Problem solved,” Athena said brightly, turning back to the Peacekeepers. “She wasn’t doing anything wrong. She definitely wasn’t doing anything that warranted taking out that great big gun of yours.”

“That’s not for you to decide,” the Peacekeeper snarled. “I can do what I want.”

“Of course you can,” Athena said at once. “I just mean... you should be smart about this. I mean... you do know who this is,” she said, jerking her head in Annie's direction, “don't you?”

“Does it matter?” the Peacekeeper said, unconcerned.

“Of course it does!” Athena said. “This isn’t just anyone, this is Annie Cresta - you know, as in the victor of the seventieth Hunger Games. She’s a big deal, especially in the Capitol.”

“You must think I’m an idiot,” the Peacekeeper scoffed. “She hasn’t been a big deal anywhere in years, not since she went crazy. She’s not nearly as interesting or exciting as she used to be.”

“Maybe to you,” Athena said. “But I’m positive that the Capitol will be crushed when they hear that poor, sweet, innocent Annie Cresta, who’s already been through so, so much was attacked or even killed by a few mean Peacekeepers. And what are they gonna do once they find that out?”

The Peacekeepers hesitated for a moment, and she knew she was starting to get to them.

“But if that’s not enough for you, then you should know that if you want to get to Annie, you’re gonna have to go through me,” Athena said, and true enough, she did not move away from the gun that was still pointed at her chest, her hands still in the air. “And you might think the Capitol won’t care about Annie, but I’m a little different. They love me over there, they have for years, they can’t get enough of me. And if they find out that I was killed by some rogue Peacekeepers in an act of senseless violence... oh, they’ll be so sad... they’ll be heartbroken... President Snow - he’s an old friend of mine, did you know? - he’s going to be faced with an entire Capitol full of grieving citizens, and they’re all going to want justice. The only thing to do will be to take care of the people who committed this act of senseless violence - and you two will go down, too, for not stopping it,” she added, nodding at the two Peacekeepers flanking the first. “And who knows what they’ll do to you from there... they might execute you flat-out... they might throw you in jail for the rest of your lives... they might cut out your tongues and turn you into Avoxes... the options are limitless, really. But don’t think for one second you’ll come out of this on top.

“Moral of the story?” Athena said finally. “You’re not dealing with just anyone right now. So what you do in the next is very very important... it might even determine how the rest of your life goes... which is why you need to make sure you make the right choice.”

There was a silence. Athena tried not to stare down at the gun still pointed directly at her heart. A part of her thought about how odd this scenario was; it was a rare thing that someone like Athena would ever be in a position to protect someone like Annie from Peacekeepers. She was staring death in the face, she knew; all the Peacekeeper had to do was pull the trigger, one quick motion, and she would be bleeding out on the ground... she took a breathed in, held her breath.

Finally, the Peacekeeper lowered his gun and took half a step back.

“Go,” the first Peacekeeper said at last, roughly. “Both of you. Get the hell out of my sight. Now.”

Athena breathed out again. She grabbed Annie by the shoulder, pulling her close and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. She led Annie around the Peacekeepers, giving them a wide berth and turning a nearby corner. They moved down the sidewalk quickly with Athena leading.

“Athena, I - I - thank you - I - ” Annie began.

“Walk,” Athena said in a low voice. “Just walk. Let’s just get as far away from here as possible.” She looked back over her shoulder and could see the Peacekeepers lingering about by the corner, watching them as they went. She looked back in front of her and said, “Fast. Before they change their minds.”

She led Annie around another corner and took several turns as they walked. It resulted in a much longer route back to Victor’s Village, but it got them away from the Peacekeepers, which was what mattered. Still, Athena only allowed herself to be fully relieved when they were walking through the wrought iron gates of Victor’s Village. She released Annie at last, and they slowed their fast walk to a stop. Annie turned to face her.

“Thank you, Athena,” she said, eyes wide. “I don’t know what they would’ve done if you didn’t show up... look, I wasn’t doing anything wrong - or I wasn’t trying - really - ”

“I know, Annie,” Athena said, a little tiredly, “I know. You just... you need to be more careful. I won’t always be around to stop them, and even if I am, I might not be able to do anything to help one day.”

Annie nodded, swallowing. “Yeah, I know. I know that.”

Athena stared at her for a moment, unable to stop her worry. Then, she said, deciding the last thing Annie needed was to be alone, “Let’s go see Mags.”

Annie nodded her assent, so Athena and Annie walked over to Mags’ house together. It took Mags Flanagan a little while to answer when they knocked, her cane in their hands and a smile on her wrinkled face when she saw them. They settled in the sitting room. Annie recounted what happened with the Peacekeepers, shaking a little. Mags put an arm around her shoulder comfortingly, and then hastened to make them tea, insisting it would make them feel better. Tea didn’t necessarily fix all the things wrong with Panem, but it did warm her up after being in the cold for so long, so Athena would take it.

“And you took care of it, Athena?” Mags asked.

Athena nodded once. “Always do.”

Mags looked an odd combination of pleased, amused, and sad at that. “Guess you do.

“Speaking of handling things,” Athena said, remembering her conversation with the mayor and straightening up, “can I make a quick phone call?”

“Go ahead,” Mags said, gesturing at the telephone on the wall.

Athena set her tea on the table, got to her feet, and walked over to the telephone receiver, dialing Hudson’s number quickly and waiting as it rung. Hudson kept so busy that she wouldn’t be surprised if she wouldn’t answer the phone, but the sooner she told Hudson about this, the better...

Athena was certain Hudson wasn’t going to pick up when she finally did. “Hello?”

“Hi, Hudson,” Athena said. “It’s me, Athena.”

“Athena? How are you?”

“Uh - fine,” she replied, without really thinking about it, and was about to ask how Hudson was, but she was already speaking again.

“Didn’t I tell you I’m not a big fan of telephones? If you want to talk to me, you know where to find me.”

“Yeah, I know, but this is something I figured I should tell you as soon as I could,” Athena said.

“Yeah? And what’s that?”

“It’s about,” Athena began, then thought carefully about what she should say next, knowing the telephones were likely bugged, “It’s about that... that new arrangement that’s been going on at the docks lately. I... I think it’s possible we might’ve been coming on a little too strong. A little subtlety never hurt anyone.”

Hudson was silent for a long time, before she said, “I see. Is it serious?”

“It’s salvageable,” Athena said, “if we’re smart about what we do next.”

“I see,” Hudson said again. “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind in the future. Anything else?”

“No, that’s about it.”

“Good,” said Hudson. “Thank you for the call.”

“Any time, captain,” Athena replied. “I’ll see you soon.”

They hung up, and Athena settled back into her seat on the sofa, grabbing her cup of tea.

“Who’d you call?” asked Annie.

“Just Hudson,” Athena shrugged. “Talked about stuff at the docks.”

Mags seemed to understand, at least partially; she and Finnick both knew the details about the rebellion the docks and the shopkeepers and tradespeople were running. Annie was really only on the same level of understanding as most of the citizens of District Four, which was for the best; unstable as she was, it would be easy to take advantage of her or break her down even more if they ever decided to question her. She was safer if she didn’t know as much.

Annie looked like she was about to ask more questions, but Mags changed the subject swiftly, saying, “Did Finnick leave for the Capitol yet?”

“Yeah,” Athena said. “Left this morning. I went with him to the train station.”

Mags looked upset, but nodded in approval. “That’s good. I’m glad he wasn’t alone for that. I talked to him on the telephone yesterday.”

“So did I,” Annie frowned, also looking upset. “I hate when you guys have to go away. And I hate when you have to do it by yourself.”

“It’s only for two weeks,” Athena pointed out, to herself as much as Annie. “Then he’ll be back...”

“Until the next Games!” Annie pointed out loudly. “Then the next one, and the next one, and the next one, and the next one, and it’ll never end! It’ll never - ”

She cut herself off abruptly, covering her ears and closing her eyes tightly, mouthing something she couldn’t quite make out. Athena and Mags coaxed her out of it slowly, until she could finally remove her hands from her ears and open her shining eyes again, looking around slowly.

“Sorry,” she muttered, wiping her eyes and looking frustrated. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Mags said. “Don’t apologize, Annie. We’re here.”

“Always,” Athena confirmed.

Annie nodded slowly. They sat in silence for a time, before she said quietly, “I don’t wanna go back to my place yet. It’s so big when I’m all by myself.”

Annie had always had a difficult relationship with her parents since her Games. She couldn’t talk with them so easily the way she used to, couldn’t tell them everything the way she used to. Her parents didn’t seem to understand why her daughter wasn’t the same way anymore, didn’t understand the things Annie _did_ tell them. The rift between them only grew, the atmosphere grew more tense, and one day, they had had enough. They insisted that they needed time away from each other, that it would be best if they moved back to their old house while Annie stayed in Victor's Village. Nobody in Victor's Village was sad to see them go except for Annie, who did not seem to realize that she deserved better.

So now Annie lived alone, though she was definitely someone who should not be alone. As such, the rest of the victors kept company with her as much as possible, particularly Athena, Finnick, and Mags.

“Well, you can stay here as long as you want,” Mags said, patting Annie's hand with a small smile.

“Thanks, Mags,” Annie gave a weak smile. “I appreciate it.”

“Gotta be better than a run-in with Peacekeepers,” Mags shrugged.

“It's close, but I'd agree,” Annie grinned, Mags let out her slightly bark-like laugh, and they all were a little more at ease after that.

After a while, Athena noticed two people walking by through the window. It was Penelope and Talisa Nereus, walking side-by-side, close together, rushing as they walked. They both had a far away look on their faces, which usually meant something was really wrong. Mags and Annie noticed her looking at the window and followed her line of vision, watching as Penelope and Talisa walked out of sight.

“What do you think happened?” Annie asked.

“Nothing good,” Mags replied.

“I'm with Mags,” Athena murmured. “I'll go talk to them.” Mags and Annie turned to look at her. “I mean, besides each other, I'm the one they're most comfortable talking to. I might be able to help.”

And so Athena got to her feet, put on her shoes and her coat, and after bidding Mags and Annie goodbye, was back outside. On the way to the Nereus’ twins house, she passed by one of the vacant ones that she always hated having to see. It had been occupied only two years ago, by Siren Irvin and her mother. Siren had been mentored to victory by Athena and Finnick during the seventy-third Games, but the thing was, Siren had not been nearly as ready for the Games as she thought she had been. She hadn’t expected the Games to be quite so terrifying, for the Capitol to be quite so terrible, and her district partner had been her very best friend, and she had had to see him die... she killed herself three months after her Victory Tour. Siren’s mother had found her in her bedroom with a handful of nightlock on her bedside table. Athena helped her mother arrange the funeral. Her mother had been removed from Victor's Village back to their old home the day her body was found. Athena visited for tea every once in a while. On those occasions, they did their very best to pretend that Victor's Village did not exist, that it wasn't where Athena would be returning after their tea. The pictures of Siren all around the house did not make it easier to forget the reality that pressed in upon them.

There was a rumour that the houses in Victor’s Village used to have balconies, but they were all removed because one too many victors threw themselves off it. Athena didn't understand how that really fixed anything if you could still jump out the window or off the roof, but she supposed the goal was to make suicide methods as inaccessible as possible. Still, it didn’t help that much, because somehow, Siren Irvin had found nightlock and used it to end her life, and no one had been able to stop her, no one had been able to help her...

Athena took what was left of the nightlock and kept them, keeping them hidden. She didn’t think she would ever use them, but it was better she had them than someone who actually might. Besides, she didn’t say it out loud, but she liked having them there, just in case...

Everyone knew that she had takenthe nightlock, but nobody really talked about it. It was one of those secrets that stayed between the victors, like how the Nereus twins smuggled morphling from their hospital visits and the reason Noah Moore so often had cuts was because when he got drunk enough he’d go into fits of rage and break things and hurt himself and Lillian Brooks read so much because it was an opportunity to forget herself for a moment... it was an odd sort of family, this group of victors, and they all had a mutual understanding that came without words ever needing to be said. They just knew.

Athena passed by Roman Zale’s house, as well, and frowned a little when she saw all the lights off, save for the lights on his brother’s room, Casper. Athena and Finnick mentored Roman to victory for the seventy-second Games, and they both liked him and cared for him a lot, but he was a wild card, he was liable to do almost anything, even if - sometimes especially if - there was a chance he’d hurt himself. She made a note to check on him later and continued on her way to the Nereus twins’ house, reaching the front door and knocking.

Penelope answered surprisingly fast. “Yes?”

“Hi,” Athena said. “I just wanted to drop by.”

Penelope stared at her for a moment, hesitating, before opening the door wide enough to let Athena in. Athena walked in, kicking off her shoes and shrugging off her coat, following Penelope into the sitting room, where Talisa sat on the sofa, staring blankly out the window. Penelope sat next to her sister, while Athena sat on the armchair opposite them. Penelope and Talisa wore similar black dresses, had skin so pale it nearly matched the snowflakes falling outside, and straight, jet black hair that fell to their shoulders.

“How are you both?” Athena asked, after a brief moment of silence.

They both turned their attention to her, but said nothing. Athena pressed on.

“It’s just... I saw you two walking by and you seemed a little... uneasy. I just wanted to check up with you.”

They exchanged glances, but said nothing. Athena kept talking. They would talk eventually, she knew, even if it wasn’t about whatever the problem was; they just needed encouragement and a lot of patience.

“I get if you don’t want to talk about it. We don’t have to. We can talk about something else, I just figured it’d be good if you weren’t by yourselves.”

They exchanged glances again, before breaking the silence at last.

“The Quarter Quell,” said Talisa.

Athena blinked. “The Quarter Quell? What about it?”

“The announcement about it is in two weeks,” said Penelope.

“I know that,” Athena said slowly. “I still don’t get...?”

“It’s not going to be good,” Penelope said. “Whatever it is, it’s going to be bad. I can feel it. We both can.”

“What? What do you mean by bad?” Athena said, frowning. “How much worse can it get from what happens year after year?”

“The Quarter Quells are always worse than usual,” Talisa said. “And with everything that’s been happening... it’s going to be bad. It’s going to be very, very, very bad.”

“The kind of bad you don’t come back from,” Penelope said. “The kind that none of us can come back from. None of us stand a chance. None of us.”

Penelope and Talisa tended to get like this, tended to believe that they were all utterly doomed and they would all meet their downfall and there was nothing any of them could do about it. It didn’t help that it could very well be true most of the time, and things like the Hunger Games, especially this Quarter Quell, didn’t help. Still, when Penelope and Talisa got this way, it was very easy for them to get lost in it, and when they got lost in it, it was hard to pull them back out. She had to at least try to help.

She leaned forward in her chair and said, “I get... I get why you guys feel that way. I don’t feel great about this Quell thing either. And you’re right. It’ll probably be really bad. But there have been a lot of bad things that you’d think we wouldn’t come back from and we did. All of us. We do stand a chance. We do. Or at least... we have to act like we do. Otherwise there’s no point to any of this. It’s all been pointless. There’s nothing for it but to try.”

And she could tell Penelope and Talisa weren’t fully soothed by her words, they were still solemn-faced as they looked at her, but still, slowly, they nodded.

“I just hope we’re ready,” Penelope said at last.

Athena was silent for a moment. She thought about this Quarter Quell, about all the terrible things the Capitol would pull on them this year, about Finnick trapped there by himself, about the slowly escalating chaos of Panem, and nodded once.

“Yeah. Yeah, me too.”


	4. III

**III**

 

In her dreams, Athena was with Finnick. They were lying in bed together, tangled together under the sheets. His hair was tousled from sleep and he rubbed his eyes tiredly, but he smiled lazily at her when he saw that she was awake, taking her face in his hands and running her thumb along her cheek. She laid her head on his chest and listened to his steady heartbeat while he traced words along her back and she said them out loud. She was not scared. She was not thinking of keeping up an act. She felt light. She felt free.

There was a sharp knock on the door, and they both startled at the sudden noise. Suddenly she did not feel so free, suddenly the weight of the world was back on her shoulders, and she felt foolish for thinking they could have anything other than stolen moments and glances. The knocking only got louder, more frequent, more persistent, until it seemed to be the only noise in the world.

“They’re coming,” Finnick murmured, looking frantic. “They’re going to take us away from each other again.”

Athena didn’t have time to find out exactly who they were, because there was another knock so loud that it brought her back into consciousness, waking up with a jolt. She couldn’t help but feel an aching sadness when she looked around and remembered that Finnick was still in the Capitol.

“Athena! Athena!” Calypso’s voice was calling out to her from the other side of her bedroom door. “Wake up!”

“What’s wrong?” Athena groaned, rubbing her eyes blearily.

“Roman’s at the door,” Calypso said. “He wants to talk to you.”

Sighing, Athena got to her feet, stretching. She threw on a sweater, then left her room, where Calypso stood waiting for her.

“He’s downstairs,” said Calypso.

Athena nodded once, before making her downstairs to the front door, where Roman Zale was waiting for her. The moment he saw her, he held up a water knot and said, “Did I do this right?”

Athena blinked. “This is what you brought me down here for?”

He winced at the sound of her voice, but said, his voice considerably lower than usual, shrugging, “Good of a reason as any, right? I’ve been trying to get it right for hours, and you and Finnick always said you’d help me with my knot-tying.”

Roman was at least decent immediately after trying almost anything, but mastering knot-tying had always eluded him. Since his victory in the Games, he had been dedicating himself to perfecting the skill. Athena simply looked at him for a moment, then narrowed her eyes slightly as she noticed that Roman looked distinctly disheveled, his curly brown hair messy and his clothes rumpled. There were dark circles under his almond-shaped, slightly bloodshot brown eyes, visible on his brown skin. He was relatively tall and muscular, but he looked like he wouldn’t be to take on much of anything in that moment.

“Roman,” she said slowly, “are you hungover?”

“I don’t see how that’s relevant,” he said, scratching his broad nose and avoiding eye contact with her. She crossed her arms and gave him a look. He cracked and said, “Okay, I might have been drinking with my brother and Murphy and Noah last night. And since we're putting it out there, keep your voice down.”

“You do that a lot lately,” Athena commented, eyeing him carefully but lowering her voice for his sake.

He shrugged. “Fun way to pass the time. Even you know it's a fun group to drink with

“Not the point,” she said. “You should be careful with something like that.”

“I’m having fun with my youth, Athena,” Roman insisted. “I should be able to do that still. We all should. You're not that much older than me.”

She didn't say anything. True, she was only a little under four years older than Roman, and they were friends now more than anything, but she tended to worry about everyone in Victor's Village. The fact that she had mentored Noah didn't make this any easier. Besides, victors too often fell victim to alcoholism, and for someone like Roman, who dealt in extremes, who was reckless and had little regard for his safety... it was easy to be concerned.

“How about this,” Roman said at last, “I'll be more careful if you check if I did this knot right.”

“You know, it really is kinda weird that you practice knot-tying when you're hungover.”

“It's the best time to practice,” Roman said matter-of-factly. “I'm not gonna be doing anything else in the state I'm in, and it'll get my mind off how shitty I feel.”

“Most people just eat, sleep, and throw up - not always in that order.”

“Well, I obviously do a lot of that, too,” Roman said. “I'm only human, Maris. Anyways, are you going to check this knot or do I really have to wait until Finnick comes back later tonight?”

It was very possible that Roman had brought up Finnick to lighten Athena’s spirits, and Athena thought it had probably worked a little too well. It had been a long two weeks, and Athena had missed and worried for Finnick ceaselessly the whole time, but he would be back later that night, and the mere reminder lifted her mood. Fighting back a small smile, she extended her hand and said, “Give it to me.”

He placed the knot in her hand happily, looking triumphant. She checked it over quickly, turning the knot over in her hands.

“It just needs to be a little tighter, especially if you ever wanted to use it practically,” Athena said, tightening the knot for him. “Other than that, it's good.”

“Great!” Roman said brightly, taking the knotted rope back from her. “Thanks, Athena.”

And as he made to leave, she called back, “You wanna come in? I'm sure we've got hangover cures that might help you out.”

Roman turned back and said, “Thanks, but I'll be good. I was with Noah and Murphy, remember? They're masters of hangover cures.” Which, of course, was true, because people who drank as much as Noah and Murphy had to be. “Besides, I have a solid plan of mastering the sailor’s hitch and sleeping - not necessarily in that order.”

“Sleep is probably a good idea,” she agreed.

“Especially with that announcement for the Quarter Quell tonight,” Roman added. “I feel like I'm gonna need to get myself ready for that however I can.”

“An even better idea,” Athena agreed. The only thing that tainted even slightly Finnick's return was the announcement about the Quarter Quell that President Snow would make that night. The Hunger Games always brought the people of District Four's Victor Village on the edge, and the fact that it was a Quarter Quell did not make things easier. “Take care, okay? Rest up.”

“Yes, ma'am,” he said, saluting her, and she cracked a smile as he turned and jogged back over to his house.

“What did Roman want?” Calypso asked, as Athena settled into her seat at the dining table to join her mother and sister for breakfast.

“Just wanted me to check over his water knot,” Athena shrugged.

“He's really dedicated to that, isn't he?” her mother asked with raised eyebrows.

“Roman isn't really the kind of person that likes finding a middle ground,” Athena replied. “He's either all in or all out.”

“That is true,” her mother conceded.

After breakfast, they all went their separate ways to prepare for where they were going next. Sometime last night, they had decided it was high time they revisited her father’s grave the next day. And now they were all getting ready to go. Athena was more careful than usual when she dressed; she always felt an inexplicable need to dress exactly the right way, even though she knew it was ridiculous. Her father could not see her anyway, not now, and even if he could, he wouldn't care. Still, it was important to her that she looked just right. When she was done, she stared at her reflection in the mirror for a time, breathing in and out slowly, deeply, bracing herself. Then she left the room to rejoin her mother and sister.

The graveyard was empty except for them that bright, wintery morning. This was not always - in fact, it usually was not - the case. There were usually at least a few other people there to pay respects to the dead. That morning, though, the three Maris women were alone. Athena didn't mind it, though, and she was pretty sure her mother and Calypso didn't, either. The walk to her father’s tomb seemed so long, but they reached it at last. It had been years since her father’s death, but the words engraved on it stood out as clear as ever.

“The tide changes, but I am unmovable. The tide turns, and I was strong through it all,” Calypso sang quietly, singing the words engraved on the grave. “And you stayed with me, because didn’t I know? When the love is real, there is no letting go.”

The words came from the song _The Turn of the Tide_ , which was Calypso’s favourite song and had been their father’s, as well. It felt like centuries ago that their father would walk around the house, singing the lyrics, with Calypso joining in, making Athena and her mother dance with them. Still, the memories brought a small smile to Athena’s face. When Calypso was done singing, she sat down in front of the grave. Athena and their mother followed suit. Calypso began talking quietly to the grave, the way they would do sometimes. She talked about her life, about what they were doing in the academy, about something funny Sirena said the other day, about the book Lillian had lent her that she had just finished. She ended it with a small “I love you,” before looking over at Athena and their mother hesitantly.

Their mother spoke next, but she didn’t say so much. She spoke a little of working with Mayor Trenton, of her life in general, but mainly she spoke of how much she missed him. She stopped herself before long, though, saying she loved him through a shuddering breath. Athena put an arm around her, and Calypso held her hand.

There were things Athena had wanted to say, stories she had wanted to tell, but now that she was there, her arm wrapped around her mother to comfort her, she found the words dying in her throat.

Finally, all she could say was, “It’s been years, but our house still feels like it’s missing something. Missing someone. I think you’d like it there. You’d like the people, at least. I think I’d like it better if you were there. But I’m trying. We all are. I know that’s all we can do sometimes. But we haven’t forgotten about you, Dad. We never will. I swear.” She paused for a moment, took a deep breath. “I love you.”

They stuck around a little longer, none of them talking. After a while, she felt her mother and sister move, getting to their feet, but she found she wasn’t ready to go. She always felt her father’s absence, but sometimes the weight of his death truly hit her, caging her, threatening to collapse upon her. This was one of those times. But despite the pain of it all, she was not ready to be pulled out yet.

“Athena?” her mother said softly, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Come on, Thena. We should go.”

Still, it was several moments before she could tear her eyes away from her father’s grave to look over at her mother and Calypso, and several moments longer before she let them pull her to her feet, and lead her away from the grave, taking one last lingering look as it became further and further away with every step they took.

 

*

 

It was early afternoon when Finnick pulled into District Four’s train station. He had arrived early by hours; they had been ahead of schedule in the Capitol, which ended in his departing early, and there hadn’t been any need to stop for fuel or anything else on the way back, resulting in an early arrival back at District Four. He had no problem with it at all; the sooner he could leave the Capitol, the sooner he could come back home, was all the better for him. The two weeks spent in the Capitol were exactly what he had expected them to be, but that didn’t make it any more bearable - it never did.

Still, he let himself feel relieved as he made his way back to Victor’s Village. He was back home, and he would not have to leave again until the next Games. He would see everyone there, he would see Mags, Annie... Athena. He would see Athena. The mere thought lifted his spirits, made him feel significantly less alone than he had during the past two weeks. As the wrought iron gates of Victor’s Village came into view, he saw two figures walking through them arm in arm. They seemed to recognize him just as he recognized them.

“FINNICK!”

It was Annie’s voice that called out the name, and Annie who rushed over to him and flung her arms around him in a tight hug. Laughing, he hugged her back tightly, before pulling away and examining her closely for a moment. Finnick knew Annie well enough to know when she was doing okay or when she was trying to soldier on despite it all, keeping her real feelings buried underneath the surface. At that moment, she seemed to genuinely be okay, which made Finnick feel much better already.

“Hey, Annie,” Finnick said with a grin. “How have you been?”

“I’m fine,” she said impatiently, “Don’t worry about me, how are you? In the Capitol for two weeks, how was it?”

“I’m fine, Annie,” Finnick said. “Don’t worry, you know me.”

“Yeah, I do,” Annie replied, crossing her arms. “That’s why I’m worried.”

The thing about knowing Annie really well was that Annie also knew him really well, meaning it was very difficult for him to hide anything from her, just as with Athena and Mags. He just said, “Well, I’m back now, that’s what matters.”

Annie seemed unsatisfied with the response, but said nothing as he walked over to meet Mags, who was walking over to them, slowed down because she now almost always needed her cane to walk, in the middle, wrapping her into a tight hug. Mags had this way of hugging him in this way that made him feel safer, less alone, that he hadn’t experienced since his mother had died. Athena’s mother did it too.

“Welcome home,” Mags said quietly, and Finnick’s heart felt a little lighter.

“Glad to be back,” he murmured as they pulled away. “How have you been?”

“Getting along well enough,” Mags replied, shrugging. “And you?”

“About the same,” Finnick said with a nod.

He parted ways with them before long, with assurances he would catch up with them soon; there was still one person he found himself desperate to see. He deposited his notebooks in his house and was back out the door again, heading for the house directly across from his. When he knocked on Athena’s door, it opened to reveal Athena’s younger sister, Calypso. Calypso had always resembled her older sister, especially now that she was older, but Calypso differed slightly, taking more after their father than Athena, who resembled her mother more. Still, sometimes Finnick thought he could see Athena in Calypso’s smile - then again, Finnick saw Athena in a lot of different things.

“Finnick!” Calypso said cheerfully. “You're back!”

“Of course I am,” Finnick grinned. “You know I can never stay away from the Maris women for too long. How are you? Actually going to the academy these days?”

“I'm fine,” she replied. “And yes, I am, unfortunately. Athena says I can't just keep using her status as a victor to get out of trouble.”

“Your sister usually knows what she’s talking about.”

“Usually,” Calypso repeated pointedly, and he laughed. “How are you? How was the Capitol?”

He shrugged. Calypso and Marella Maris knew very vaguely of what Snow had him do in the Capitol, but did not know everything the way Athena did, mostly at his own request. “I’m fine. Business as usual. Is Athena home?”

“Yeah, she’ll be happy to see you,” Calypso replied, turning over her shoulder and calling, “Athena! Come here!”

Finnick could hear the faint sound of Caesar Flickerman’s voice, talking excitedly about the announcement would make about the Quarter Quell later than night. Athena had a habit of staying vigilant whenever there was news about the Hunger Games, desperate to find out everything she could, desperate to not be caught off guard. The volume of the television was lowered, and Athena’s voice called back, “Why? What is it?”

“There’s a surprise,” Calypso responded, while Finnick tried to control his smile at the sound of her voice.

“A surprise,” Athena repeated, sounding irritated and impatient, as the noise from the television ceased completely and the sound of footsteps approaching sounded. “The good kind or the bad kind?”

“I think you'll like it,” Calypso responded vaguely, still downstairs with Finnick by the door. “We're at the door.”

“What surprise is there at the - ” Athena began, having turned the corner from the living room, then stopped short at the sight of him. It was hard to hold back his smile at the sight of her, dressed in navy blue, curls falling down her shoulders. Immediately, her expression went from confused and impatient to delighted, a bright smile crossing her face - “Finnick!”

She raced forward and flung her arms around him in a tight hug. Smiling, suddenly feeling a weight off his shoulders at the feeling of the warmth of her body against his, breathing in the light scent of cinnamon and vanilla that he had long since began associating her with, he hugged her back, kissing her cheek quickly.

“I didn’t know you'd be back so early!” Athena says, pulling away from him, holding onto his arms.

“I didn’t know, either. And, like Calypso said,” Finnick shrugged, grinning at her reaction, “I wanted it to be a surprise.”

“You're the worst,” she said, shaking her head, but there was no mistaking the smile on her face.

“What's all the noise about?” came the voice of Marella Maris, Athena’s mother, appearing in the hallway a moment later. She looked from Calypso, to Athena, and then over at Finnick, and smiled, looking surprised. “Finnick! I wasn't expecting you back so early.”

“Well, you know how I am,” Finnick replied, walking forward and hugging her. “The Capitol can wait, as far as the Maris women are concerned.”

When he pulled away from her, he shot Athena a look as furtively as he could. As much as he did love both Calypso and Marella, he wanted to be alone with Athena so badly it threatened to overwhelm him completely. Athena, as always, understood immediately.

“Finnick, you should really see the way Hudson fixed up her ship while you were gone,” she said, throwing on her coat and putting on her boots. “It looks amazing and rides on the water better than any ship of its kind. Come on, I'll show you.”

Finnick nodded over at Athena, before turning to Calypso and Marella, saying, “Nice to see you both again.”

Finnick took Athena’s outstretched hand, allowing himself to be gently led away by her, out the door and down the pathway.

“As much as I love both Hudson and boats, I'm not sure I want to see either right now,” Finnick said, interlocking their fingers.

“I figured as much,” she replied. “My mother and sister probably have, too. That wasn't my best excuse. Forget that, though - how was the Capitol and the train there and back and everything?”

“It was fine,” Finnick replied. “The way it always is.”

“And how are _you?_ ” she asked, watching him carefully.

He couldn't answer that question quite as easily. He couldn't lie to Athena even if he wanted to do so.

“The way it always is,” he said finally.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she said, rubbing her thumb idly along the back of his hand.

“No,” he replied. “The thing that gets me through what I have to do at the Capitol is knowing I can be with you again after. Now that we're here, that's what I want to focus on.”

“Are you sure?” Athena asked, and when he nodded, said, “Okay. Cave, then?”

“Cave,” he agreed, relieved.

They left Victor’s Village and walked through the district, smiling at familiar faces and trying generally to ignore the awed, admiring glances they got from others.

“Six years and you’d think they’d be used to it already,” Athena mumbled.

“Try ten years,” he whispered back.

“Fair point.”

When they passed the docks, Hudson caught sight of them, on the deck of her ship, and said, “HEY, MARIS! WHEN ARE YOU GETTING YOUR LAZY ASS OVER HERE AGAIN? HAVEN'T SEEN YOU IN AGES!”

“I WAS TEACHING TWO DAYS AGO, HUDSON,” Athena called back. “AND I’M IN TOMORROW, YOU KNOW THAT.”

“EXCUSES, EXCUSES,” Hudson replied dismissively. “AND ODAIR! NICE TO SEE YOU AGAIN! WOULD BE NICER IF I SAW YOU ON MY SHIP FOR ONCE!”

“I'M THERE WHEN YOU WANT ME, HUDSON!” Finnick called.

“EXCELLENT! YOU'RE HERE TOMORROW WITH MARIS, THEN!” Hudson said, looking pleased, and turned away before either of them could reply.

“I’m glad _she_ never changes, though,” Athena murmured, as they continued on their walk to the beaches.

“The ship _is_ looking nice, though,” Finnick said lightly. “You weren't lying.”

“Would I lie to you?” she said, a little playfully, grinning up at him.

“I don't know,” Finnick said, feigning uncertainty. “Who knows what's behind that pretty face?”

She shoved him lightly at that, shaking her head.

When they reached the beach, they walked along the edge until they reached the entrance of the cave, walking inside. Immediately, they both relaxed more, because being here meant they could be themselves. They sat down side by side, leaning against the cave wall, and realized only then that they were still holding hands. They kept them where they were, though, because none of this was dangerous in the cave. Things were different, this was allowed.

“How is everyone else?” Finnick asked. “I know I should have checked, but when I got to Victor's Village, all I wanted to see was you. I saw Mags and Annie on the way there, and they’re fine, but I don't know about everyone else - ”

“Don't worry about it,” Athena shook her head, squeezing his hand reassuringly. “Everyone's fine enough. Penelope and Talisa have been paranoid lately - I think they're worried about this Quarter Quell - and it's got everyone a little on edge, but otherwise there's nothing out of the ordinary.”

He nodded. “And how have you been?”

“The way I've always been,” she replied, sighing. “I don't know whether you can classify it as good, but it's bearable. I'm better now that you're here.” She paused for a moment, then said, “We visited my father’s grave today - me and my mother and Calypso, I mean.”

“Yeah?” Finnick said. “How was that?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary, I guess,” she said. “I just miss him so much. The feeling never goes away. And my mother and Calypso are still so heartbroken over it, and there’s nothing I can really do to stop it, even though I want to.” She was silent for a time, looking distracted, her brow furrowed. Finnick found he knew exactly what she meant when she spoke of wanting to make someone feel better but finding herself unable. “I wish you could’ve met him. You would’ve liked each other, I know it.”

Finnick put an arm around her, placing his head on top of hers when she rested her head on his shoulder. “Me too,” he murmured. “Me too.”

They were quiet for a while, Athena in Finnick's arms, the sound of the ocean waves in the distance. After a time, she said, “What's life in the Capitol looking like?”

Finnick shrugged. “Alayne's fine. So are Tatiana, Syrio, Ajax, Hestia, and Leto. Everyone's either obsessing about the Quarter Quell or Katniss and Peeta and their engagement. But there has been some talk about... well...” Finnick didn't think he could say any of this out loud, even in the cave, so he spelled Seneca Crane's name in the sand. He watched Athena's face as she read it, the way her brow furrowed and her lips turned into a slight frown.

She wiped the writing in the sand as soon as she had read it, before looking up at him and signing, “What about him?”

“His death,” he signed back. Seneca had died of so-called mysterious causes several months back. Plutarch Heavensbee was taking his place as Head Gamemaker now. “Everyone has different theories, but there's one common one that keeps coming back.”

“What is it?” she signed.

Finnick didn't know how to sign this particular word, so he wrote it in the sand again, carefully spelling out the letters: _N-I-G-H-T-L-O-C-K_.

Athena understood at once. She didn't even need to ask who would've poisoned him. Finnick had had enough secrets told to him by rich, influential Capitol citizens, which he then passed on to Athena, for it to be immediately obvious. President Snow had a penchant for poison. He was rumored to have poisoned a lot of people; enemies of his, potential political adversaries, people within his own circles that had the potential to become threats to him down the line. He took care of all of them with drops of poison. If anyone would poison Seneca Crane, it would be him.

“Why did he do it?” Athena signed. “You think it's because of Katniss and Peeta? You know, how he let them both live?”

Nobody who had told Finnick this information could give him an explanation as to why(he suspected they just didn’t know), but this was the only explanation that made sense to him after thinking it over for so long. Katniss and Peeta, whether they had meant to or not, had openly defied the Capitol when they fought to make it out of the arena together despite what the rules had been for decades. Seneca, whether he had meant to or not, had enabled them when he allowed them both to win rather than letting them both die. And though Katniss and Peeta were trying to sell it as a love affair to make up for the damage and the Capitol had fallen for it completely, almost nobody in the districts were buying it, and rebellion was brewing all over Panem as a result. Even District Four, Career district though it was, was warming up to the idea of resisting, finding their own ways to rebel against the Capitol. It was very likely that Snow blamed Seneca, at least in part, for the situation and his decision to let Katniss and Peeta both win had cost him his life.

“It’s the only thing that makes sense,” Finnick signed at last. “Katniss and Peeta both being victors has had a lot of consequences. People keep resisting against the Capitol, and it’s because of the fact that they both made it out that pushed people to do it. Seneca Crane is the one that let it happen. It makes sense that Snow would punish him for it.”

Neither of them said anything for a while, letting this truly register in their minds. Finnick had no fondness at all for Seneca Crane, but he couldn’t help but think about, rather worried, what his death might mean for all of Panem. One glance at Athena told him she was thinking precisely the same thing.

“Remember after Katniss and Peeta’s speech here,” he said at last, “and we wondered if things were going to calm down or just go even more downhill?” She nodded. “It’s not going to calm down. It’s not going to calm down for a really long time.”

Athena shook her head slowly. “No, it won’t. It’s all downhill from here.”

 

*

 

Seven-thirty in the evening found Athena sitting in between Calypso and her mother in their sitting room, their eyes glued on the television. Caesar Flickerman was speaking before a standing-room-only crowd, talking to the appreciative crowd about Katniss Everdeen’s and Peeta Mellark’s upcoming wedding. He introduced Cinna, one of the stylists for District Twelve who became an overnight celebrity due to the outfits he designed for Katniss; the outfit he made for Katniss during both her opening ceremonies and her first interview with Caesar had an effect that made them look like they were on fire, making sure both Katniss and Cinna were memorable, and cementing Katniss’ nickname as the girl on fire. Caesar and Cinna have a few minutes of good-natured small talk, before the attention is turned to the giant screen, showing several photographs in Katniss in different wedding outfits. Apparently, the Capitol got to vote on what she would wear. The audience went crazy with every photograph shown, cheering for their favourites, booing the ones they didn’t like; evidently, they were very invested on what Katniss Everdeen would wear on her wedding day. Caesar announced that they could vote on their favourites until noon the following day.

“Let’s get Katniss Everdeen to her wedding day in style!” Caesar hollered to the excited crowd.

 _Rebellions starting up all over the country,_ Athena thought. _Everyone’s in danger, and this is what they’re showing._

But of course, this made perfect sense. This was what they always did, what they always had done. If they showed the rebellions, they would be showing the reality, they would be showing that the Capitol didn’t have as much power as they made it seem. But this kept up the idea that the Capitol were in control of everything, right down to what a sixteen year-old girl would wear when she married a boy out of necessity, not out of love, not by choice.

“They’re really going to get married, aren’t they?” Calypso murmured. “They’re barely older than I am...”

This fact hadn’t gone unnoticed by Athena. Calypso was only two years younger than Katniss and Peeta, and sometimes she couldn’t stand to look at the latter two because it reminded her of how easily all of these horrific things could happen to her sister, and she would be powerless to stop it.

Athena was on the verge of shutting off the television when Caesar finally reminded the audience to stay tuned for the other big event of the evening, saying, “That’s right! This year will be the seventy-fifth anniversary of the Hunger Games, and that means it’s time for our third Quarter Quell!”

Athena sat up, tense, attentive. She could sense her mother and Calypso becoming the same way from either side of her. The anthem played, and her throat tightened with the usual revulsion as President Snow took the stage, followed by a young boy dressed in a white suit, holding a simple wooden box. Athena recognized it as the box that held the cards, which dictated the twist for each Quarter Quell. The anthem played, and President Snow began to speak, reminding everyone of the Dark Days, from which the Hunger Games were born. He spoke of the laws of the Games, which dictated that every twenty-five years the anniversary would be marked by a Quarter Quell, which called for an even more glorified of the Games to make fresh the memory of those killed by the districts’ rebellion.

The event and President Snow’s words, really, could not be more pointed, since at this point, Athena suspected that several districts were rebelling by this point.

At the moment, though, Athena was just desperate to know what they were planning this time around.

“Get to the point,” Athena murmured.

President Snow went on to talk about what happened in previous Quarter Quells.

“On the twenty-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that their children were dying because of their choice to initiate violence, every district was made to hold an election and vote on the tributes who would represent it.”

Athena tried to picture how that must have felt, having to pick the children who had to go into the arena. Having to be the child who was voted to face what was very likely their deaths. It was worse, Athena thought, much worse to be turned over by your own people - your neighbours, your friends, your classmates, your colleagues - than to have your name drawn from the reaping ball. But then again, that was the whole point.

Still, Athena only murmured, again, “Get to the point.”

“On the fiftieth anniversary,” Snow continued, “as a reminder that two rebels died for each Capitol citizen, every district was required to send in twice as many tributes.”

Athena’s chest tightened, her stomach lurching at the very thought of it. She tried to imagine facing an arena with forty-seven other tributes rather than twenty-three. Worse odds, less hope, more dead children, more blood on your hands... that was the year Haymitch Abernathy won. Athena thought of the middle-aged man from District Twelve, and found his behaviour now made much more sense once this was considered.

Athena shifted in her seat and said again, as though President Snow might hear her, “Get to the point.”

“And now we honour our third Quarter Quell...” said President Snow.

“ _Finally_ ,” Athena said, leaning forward in her seat, her eyes glued to the president, her brow furrowed, as though she might be able to know immediately what the twist was if she just _looked_ hard enough.

The little boy in white stepped forward, holding out the box as he opened the lid. They could see the tidy, upright rows of yellow envelopes, making it clearer and clearer that this Quarter Quell system prepared for centuries upon centuries of Hunger Games. Trying not to feel overwhelmed by the thought, Athena watched as the president removed an envelope clearly marked as seventy-five. He ran his finger under the flap and pulled out a small, square paper. Without hesitation, he began to read.

“On the seventy-fifth anniversary,” he began, and Athena found herself taking a deep breath, bracing herself, “as a reminder to the rebels that even the strongest among them cannot overcome the power of the Capitol, the male and female tributes will be Reaped from their existing pool of victors.”

And Athena heard his words, understood what he was saying, but the real meaning of this, the true weight of it, did not register in Athena’s mind for a split second, because it did not make sense. Out of everything, out of all the horrible things the Capitol could have come up with this Quell, this was something she could have never imagined. It was not possible. It went against everything she knew, the foundation she had been trying to build for herself and her mother and Calypso and Finnick and Mags and Annie and everyone she cared for since her victory. Once someone was Reaped, if they won the Games, they got to live the rest of their life in whatever peace they could make for themselves. That was the deal. That was part of the foundations of these Games.

But the foundations had been shaken up ever since the end of the last Games when two people made it out as opposed to one.

And a second later, the reality of President Snow’s words were truly registering in her mind, dawning on her, crashing over her. The male and female tributes would be Reaped from their existing pool of victors. It would be the victors who went back into the Games, two of these people who she had grown to love and care for so much. Two of them. And one of them might be her. They would have to go back. She might have to go back. After everything they had been through, everything they had done, everything they had to bear and suffer through, they would have to do it again.

Her mother and Calypso were coming to this realization a moment later. Her mother was in utter despair, close to tears, saying that this was not fair, that they could not do this again, not after everything. Calypso was somewhere between furious and heartbroken, insisting that they could not do this, this couldn’t be allowed, there was no way this could actually happen. She could barely hear them, though; they sounded like they were millions of miles away, despite the fact that both of them were sitting right beside her. Her mother was taking her hand, and Calypso was following suit, the former asking if she was okay, and Athena knew she ought to comfort them and make sure that they were okay, to assure them she was, too, but she couldn’t do it. Her body acted of its own volition and she was freeing herself from their grasp, getting to their feet and running out of the house, ignoring Calypso and her mother when they called her back.

She made it out the door and down the pathway, and she had been planning on running, but now that she was outside, the whole thing seemed useless. She had nowhere to go. No escape, no chance of making it anywhere alive. She was trapped, caged, where she was. She stumbled over to porch steps of one of the nearby empty houses, collapsing to the ground, bringing her knees to her chest and placing her head on her knees. She squeezed her eyes shut and covered her ears, trying to block out everything, trying to block out this news, trying to block out the fact that she might have to go to the arena again. There were only five other female victors. The odds had never been less in her favour.

She hadn’t put on her coat before she left, had barely paused to shove her feet into her shoes and grab her keys, so at first she thought her shaking was from the cold, until she realized it was from her crying, sobs wracking her body while tears streamed down her cheeks. After everything she had been through... she had been Reaped, had been forced to go through days of training, to be treated as a doll to be gawked at and put in whatever outfits they wanted, had to go through weeks of hell in the arena, had lost people she had cared for, including her own father, in the process... and she had learned to adapt. She had learned to try and make peace, to try and build a new foundation. And now it was all being upended, it was all being taken from her. The peace that everyone here had tried to make after the torture they had been put through, it was all being upended and stolen from them...

And for what reason? Calypso had said this couldn’t possibly be allowed to happen, but Athena knew better. President Snow himself had called the victors the strongest of the districts... the victors were the ones who faced some of the worst of what the Capitol had to offer, the worst sort of challenges, were put in a fight to the death in strenuous conditions, and still made it out alive. And that was without mentioning that the victors already survived the challenges that came just by living in the districts. Yes, they were some of the strongest. In a way, they represented hope in places where there was little of it left. If they were sent back into the arena, all of them but one left to die, left to kill people who had become close friends over the years, then it would show that any hope the districts had was an illusion. That even the victors they hailed as heroes and role models and leaders were, ultimately, just as powerless as anyone else in the districts. Their status, in the end, meant nothing.

Athena realized at once that this twist being chosen at this time of rebellion and tension all across the country was not an accident. It was too convenient. It was meant to subdue the districts, to stop any further chaos from happening. It was about Katniss Everdeen, who was the only female victor of District Twelve, it was about taking her down, since it would ultimately mean taking down the symbol of rebellion for the districts. All the other victors were just collateral damage. It still changed nothing to her. If anything, it made her feel worse, made her sob even harder.

Eventually, the tears stopped, and she lifted her head slowly, wiping the tears from her face. Over the sound of the wind, she heard shrieking and crying that felt awfully familiar.

“Annie?” she whispered to herself. She thought for a moment, then realization washed over her, horror seeming to seeping into her bonds. Annie had heard the announcement, too, all of them had. Annie, who had been so traumatized by her Games, faced with the prospect of having to go back... Athena jumped to her feet. “Annie!”

Athena ran over to Annie’s house, knocking on the door loudly.

“Annie!” she called out, surprised at how steady she found her voice now that she needed it to be. All noise ceased from inside the house. “Annie! Come on, Annie! I know you’re in there and I know you heard the announcement! Open up!”

It took several moments, but Annie finally opened the door, just as Athena was about to start knocking again. Her eyes were red, tear tracks on her cheeks, her dark hair a mess, looking paler than usual and distinctly wild-eyed, scratches on her arms and throat that looked self-inflicted.

“He’s doing it again!” was all Annie said when she saw her. “He’s doing it again! He never stops, he’s never going to leave us alone, we’re never going to get to live our lives in peace! It never ends, I told you, it never ends!”

She moved back into the sitting room, and Athena followed quickly, closing the door behind her. Athena realized as soon as she walked into the sitting room that Annie had thrown up, the vomit on the floor. Annie started pulling at her hair, still sobbing and screaming out, “It doesn’t end, it doesn’t end, it doesn’t end!”

“Annie, no! Annie!” Athena said, but Annie was too far gone to listen to her. With no other choice, Athena rushed forward and grabbed onto her arms to stop her before she could draw blood.

Annie wrenched her arms free of Athena’s grasp, but once they were freed, she did not try to hurt herself again; instead, she covered her ears with her hands, her eyes shut tight. Athena did not touch her again, and instead just waited. Athena glanced around the sitting room; it was in complete disarray. It looked like Annie had knocked things over in her state. Athena couldn’t remember the last Annie had been this bad, but it was not hard to think of why.

After what could have been minutes or hours, Annie removed her hands from her ears and looked up at her again. For a moment, they just stared at each other, before Annie said, weakly, “I can’t go in again.”

“You won’t,” Athena said, with a confidence that seemed to surprise Annie.

“How do you know?”

“I just do,” Athena said firmly. “I know everything.” There was a pause, before Athena extended her hand and said, “Come on. You should get cleaned up. I can run a bath.”

Slowly, Annie took Athena’s hand and allowed herself to be led upstairs to the bathroom. Athena ran a bath, and helped Annie in as soon as the water was warm enough. Annie looked frail and small and broken and terrified sitting there, and Athena couldn’t stand it, so she said, “I’ll clean up downstairs. I’ll be back in a second.”

“I should help - ” Annie began, but Athena cut her off before she could finish.

“You focus on yourself right now, okay?” Athena said. “I’ll be right back.”

Athena only left when Annie nodded. She mopped up the vomit, trying not to be sick herself at the sight of it. Then she tidied up the sitting room, fixing the things that had been knocked over or left in disarray. When the sitting room was in a good state again, Athena jogged upstairs to see that Annie had already drained the bath and had changed clothes. She didn’t look much better, but she seemed more exhausted than anything else.

“Do you want to try getting some rest?” Athena asked. Annie nodded slowly, and so she settled into her bed. Athena stuck around for a while, before asking, “Do you think you’ll be okay on your own? Be honest.”

Annie thought about it, then nodded.

“Okay,” Athena said. “I’ll go. Please try to sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Annie nodded again. Athena made to leave the room, but Annie spoke suddenly.

“I don’t understand why they always do this.”

And though she knew why, Athena said, “Me neither.”

Annie paused, before saying, “They’re never going to stop doing this to us, aren’t they?”

Athena knew exactly what she meant by the question, and after everything, she couldn’t tell her anything but the truth, though she knew Annie was terrified.

“No, they’re not.”

Annie didn’t say anything. She was staring blankly in front of her, looking millions of miles away. “Okay. I just needed to hear it.”

And then she turned onto her back and closed her eyes tightly, and Athena knew it was time to leave. She was back out in the winter night moments later, looking around her. Seeing Annie made her realize she ought to check on all of her fellow victors; they weren’t the most stable group of people at the best of times, she needed to look out for them and make sure they didn’t do anything reckless. Who knew what Annie might have done if she hadn’t gone to see her... if nothing else, it gave her something to keep her pushing forward, to keep her from sinking into the hopelessness and the despair that was building up inside of her.

Athena went to see Mags next. When she knocked, it was silent on the other side of the door. When Mags opened the door, she was silent. When Athena tried talking to her, she was silent. When Athena asked her how she was, she was silent. When Athena tried telling her jokes, she was silent. When Athena told her stories, she was silent. When Athena asked her to tell her stories, she was silent. Mags got like this sometimes; would go silent for hours or days or even weeks at a time, not making a single sound. Even sign language would be difficult for her in those times. It was never good; when Mags went completely silent, it meant she was in a terrible, terrible place, and it was hard for her to come back from it. Which was why Athena tried desperately to pull her back out, to try to get her to talk, but Mags stayed silent. Athena was close to crying from frustration, from desperation, but she held them back for Mags’ sake; it was hard enough for her without Athena making her feel guilty.

Finally, Athena looked at her, a little helplessly, and said, “Will you be okay on your own?”

Slowly, Mags nodded.

Athena sighed and said. “Okay. I’ll come back tomorrow. Please take care of yourself.”

Mags nodded again, then grabbed Athena’s arm, pointing at herself, then at her, as though to say, “You too.” Athena simply nodded, and trooped back out of the house, feeling utterly defeated. Still, she made her way to Roman’s house next, knocking on the door. It was Casper, who looked exactly like an older version of his brother, who answered, looking panicked.

“You heard, right?” Casper said right away. “About the Quell?”

“Of course I did,” Athena said, then finally noticed the sounds of things breaking coming from the sitting room. “Is Roman okay?”

“He’s not taking it well,” Casper said. “He just snapped, he’s been throwing things around and breaking things. I've been trying to stop him, but I - I - ”

He couldn't find the words, but Athena didn't really need him to finish the sentence. Roman and Casper were extremely close, and the latter cared for the former deeply, but he had never been in the arena. There were some things he would never understand, some situations, he would never fully be able to handle. This was one of them.

“Can I come in?”

“Please,” Casper said, stepping aside to make room for her.

Athena stepped into the house, walked inside - and ducked as a lamp came flying right at her head. The lamp hit the wall behind her instead and shattered. Athena looked round to see Roman, his hair falling over his face, aggression in his movements.

“Roman - ” Athena began.

“If you don’t want to get hit,” he snarled, “get the fuck out of the way!”

Athena did not get the fuck out of the way. Instead, she took a step forward, toward Roman. He threw the television remote, which made a dent in the wall beside her.

“Roman,” she said again, taking a step forward again.

Roman threw one of the cushions of the sofa, which knocked over a vase. But Athena knew what he was doing and why, and so she was not frightened. After all, anger made sense. Anger was easy. If you were angry, you didn’t have to focus on the grief and the helplessness and the powerlessness. Anger and aggression were easy in comparison to those things. Athena just kept walking towards Roman until she was right in front of him, and before he could find something else to throw or break, grabbed onto his wrists.

“Roman,” she said. He tried to free herself from her grasp, but she just tightened her grip. “Roman.”

“What?” he burst out, but there was a quiver in his voice that she knew well enough usually preceded tears. “What the fuck do you want?”

“You should remember who your enemies are,” Athena said, choosing her words carefully; Roman did not like feeling like he was being coddled. This was the best way to approach him. “I’m not your enemy. Casper isn’t your enemy. The furniture isn’t your enemy.”

Roman was silent for a time, before grumbling, “Well, yeah, but I can’t fucking do _shit_ to my actual enemies.”

“Being destructive towards yourself and everything and everyone around you isn’t helping your cause,” Athena replied. “You’re just helping your enemies out. Is that what you want to do?”

Roman lifted his head slightly and said, “Fuck no.”

“Then why don’t you show it to them and clean this mess up,” Athena said. “Casper and I’ll help - right, Casper?”

Casper perked up, nodding immediately. “Of course.”

“So how about it?” Athena said, looking at Roman with raised eyebrows.

Slowly, Roman nodded, breathing deeply. And so they set to work, cleaning up the sitting room, picking up bits and pieces of broken furniture, straightening out things that got knocked over until it was somewhat back to normal. The whole time, Roman ranted angrily about things he did not like; not even necessarily the Quell or Snow, just anything that bothered him. Athena and Casper let him do it. Evidently, he was not ready to face anything but his anger, and they could not force him to deal with something he wasn’t ready to deal with quite yet. Besides, it was better he let out his anger this way, rather than in a way that got himself or someone else hurt. When they were done, it seemed Roman had tired himself out, because he collapsed onto the sofa and fell asleep immediately. Athena looked over to Casper.

“Can you handle it from here?” she asked.

Casper nodded immediately. “Yeah, for sure.”

“Okay, good,” Athena said. “Look, I’ll come by tomorrow and help you guys replace and move in some new furniture - from the looks of it, you’re going to need to make a lot of replacements.”

“You don’t have to - ”

“I want to,” Athena said, cutting across him firmly.

Casper looked like he wanted to argue, but finally just said, “Thank you so much, Athena, I owe you big time.”

“Don’t mention it,” she shrugged. “I should get going.”

And she made to leave, but Casper called her back, saying, “Athena?”

“Yeah?”

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry this is happening. Not just to my brother, but to you... to everyone here. You deserve better. We all do. And I’m sorry.”

Athena just smiled weakly, forcing herself to keep it together; she could not lose it now, not when she needed to make sure the others were okay... “Yeah. Me too.”

She went to see Murphy next. He opened the door and let her in (he was a little drunk, from the looks of it), but when he looked at her more closely when they were in the hallway, pure terror seemed to wash over him. He stumbled away from her clumsily, saying, “Please! Please, no more! Haven’t you done enough? You’ve done enough already, don’t you see that?”

“What?” Athena said hesitantly. “Murphy, what are you talking about?”

But he only backed further away from her, looking terrified of her. It was only when he begged her not to make him go back in that she realized he was seeing President Snow. It took Athena ages to make him realize that she was not Snow, but even when she finally succeeded, he didn’t get much better; Athena was no threat to him, but the real Snow was. Athena wasn’t making him go back into the arena, but the real Snow might. There was no helping that, no saving him from it. Still, Athena didn’t leave until she was sure he would be okay on his own.

She went to see Noah next. She heard his loud footsteps approach the door, but he didn’t open the door for several moments, and from the sounds of it, it was because he was struggling with the lock. Athena saw why as soon as he opened the door and laid eyes on him. He was already completely drunk. He let her come in, and she saw several open, empty bottles on his dining room table, and there were many more unopened or half-drunk ones waiting to be consumed. He could barely walk straight, and he was so incomprehensible she couldn’t understand a single slurred word that came out of his mouth. It was clear to Athena that he would die if he drank much more.

“Right,” Athena said firmly. “No more for you.”

She began collecting the bottles with alcohol still in them, placing them back in his liquor cabinet. Noah did not seem to like that; he began screaming at her, and though she couldn’t understand any of what he said, she thought she could make out, “...the fuck... think... you are...” among it.

“You drink anymore, it’ll kill you,” she said flatly, as she closed the cabinet.

He kept yelling at her, but Athena stood her ground. Eventually, though, he got violent. He lunged for her, but Athena dodged his attack, trying to talk some sense into him. But when he broke one of the empty bottles and charged for her with one of the broken halves with its jagged, sharp edges, she realized there was no getting through to him, not in this state. She dodged his clumsy, sloppy attack with ease, knocked the bottle out of his hand, and punched him square in the face, just hard enough to knock him out.

“Sorry, Noah,” she murmured, as she lifted his unconscious form up and over his shoulder, sagging slightly as he weighed much more than her. “Had to... you’ll see that at some point...”

Athena carried him over to his bedroom upstairs, tucked him carefully into his bed, and once she was sure he’d be out for some time, left the room and went back to the kitchen. She got a length of rope and tied the most complex, tight knot she knew around the handles of the liquor cabinet; he would have to be completely sobered up before he could untie this, at which point she hoped he would be able to think rationally again. Vowing to see him again in the morning, she left the house, heading instead for Lillian’s place.

Relief washed over Lillian’s face as soon as she saw Athena.

“Oh, there you are!” Lillian said, pulling her into a tight hug. “There you are! Oh, you’re okay, you’re okay!”

Lillian grabbed her hand and pulled her into the house, closing the door behind them. She didn’t release her hand. Athena was very confused; Lillian was not the type of person who openly showed affection in such a way. Athena had seen Lillian drunk, and she did not act like this, so something else was causing this shift.

“I’ve realized,” Lillian said, gripping tighter onto her hand, her hold on her vice-like, as though scared she would disappear, “we need to run away.”

Athena blinked. “What?”

“We need to run away,” Lillian said again. “Now. Before they can hurt us again. Please, think about it. They’ve done so much to us already... between my Games, then yours... and for so long I thought you were gone... but now you’re back. And they want to bring us apart. They want to hurt us, they want to ruin us again. We can’t let them. The only way we can stop it is if we run.”

And just as Athena was more confused than ever, realization dawned on her. Mags had told her, Finnick, and Annie stories about a man Lillian had been married to for years. They had won back-to-back Games and met as victors. They got married a while after, and had stayed together until the man’s death twenty years ago. For some reason or another, Lillian was seeing this man instead of her. And now she wanted them to run away before the man could be taken from her again.

Athena had known Lillian had hallucinations often, but she had never seen anything like this before.

Athena tried to get Lillian to see her, but she could not do it. Lillian seemed unable to see anyone but her dead husband. In the end, all Athena could do was convince her not to run away and calm her down just enough, insisting that nobody would hurt her - or, really, Lillian’s husband - ever again. Though it was technically true, it felt wrong and Athena felt awful for lying, but there was nothing else she could do, and in the end, it worked. Lillian calmed down, and Athena got her to go to sleep. Athena vowed to see her the next day, and left.

Penelope and Talisa did not answer when Athena knocked at first. She knocked again. They didn’t answer. She knocked again and again and again. They did not answer.

“Penelope! Talisa!” Athena called, now banging on the door. “I know you’re in there! I know you heard the announcement! Come on, open up!”

And yet still, they did not answer. Panic was mounting inside Athena now, clawing at her throat. Penelope and Talisa had been so worried about this Quell, had been on the edge. They had said it themselves, that they thought it would be the kind of bad none of them would be able to come back from, that they did not stand a chance...

Athena could not wait any longer; the door was locked, but she took one of the pins out of her hair, ignoring the curls that fell in front of her face, and picked the lock carefully. When she heard the door unlock, she opened the door and stepped inside.

“Penelope? Talisa?” she called out, dread joining in with her panic. “Hello? It’s me! It's Athena!”

There was no response. She could hear the television playing, though; Caesar Flickerman’s voice was drifting into the hallway, babbling on about this exciting new twist for the Quarter Quell. Hearing him speak made her feel nauseous, and, temporarily distracted from her worry for Penelope and Talisa, she strode over to the sitting room to turn the television off, but she stopped dead at the doorway. What she saw in the sitting room made her heart drop to the region of her stomach, her stomach lurch unpleasantly, and her chest feel like it was about to close in on itself. She had to bring her hand to mouth and bite down hard on her lip to stop herself from screaming out loud.

Penelope and Talisa were there. There were nooses wrapped tightly around their necks, and the ceiling fan was on, spinning around rapidly, and they both were dangling from it. Athena was overwhelmed by the sight of it, their limp bodies spinning around and around in circles with the fan, and nearly threw up then and there. She stumbled over to turn the fan off, tried not to stare too long at the way Penelope and Talisa still swung around limply for a few more moments. Eventually, Athena stood up on the table and released each of them from the blades of the fan, lowering them to the ground and taking the noose off of their necks. Athena checked their pulse just in case, but she already knew they were dead and had been for some time now.

Staring down at their pale, lifeless forms from up close, she suddenly felt guilt rushing inside of her. She had known Penelope and Talisa were on the edge. She had known they were never all that stable in the first place. She had known something like this would impact them negatively. So why hadn’t she made sure the first thing she did was check up on them? She could’ve stopped this, she could’ve stopped them, she could’ve helped them... and now they were dead because she had been too slow.

She realized, after a while, that she was crying again, sobs of grief and fury and guilt shaking her whole body. Still, she knew she could not stay like this. She would have to call in Peacekeepers to collect the body. She took deep breaths until she stopped crying and was calm enough to speak. She stood up carefully, tore her eyes away from Penelope's and Talisa’s bodies, and walked over to the telephone receiver. She picked up the telephone and called the Peacekeepers’ Headquarters.

“State your name.”

“Athena Maris,” she replied, relieved at the steadiness of her voice.

“What is the purpose of this call?”

“I’m at Penelope and Talisa Nereus’ house,” she said. “In Victor’s Village. I went to visit them, but they’re dead. They killed themselves. Maybe an hour or so ago, from the looks of it.”

“A team will be there shortly.”

“Thank you,” Athena said, and hung up, collapsing against the wall and sinking to the floor, staring at Penelope’s and Talisa’s bodies, still on the floor, red marks around their necks...

Eight Peacekeepers were there within fifteen minutes. Six of them turned their focus on Penelope and Talisa, while the other two seemed to oversee the first six. As they collected the bodies and made to carry them out, Athena warned them to be subtle about it.

“We don’t take orders from you,” said one of the Peacekeepers.

“Of course you don’t,” Athena said shortly, rubbing her temples. “But I’m telling you, if anyone here sees you carrying out Penelope and Talisa right now, you’re going to have more bodies to carry. Now, you might not care about that,” she said, at the looks on their faces, “but we’re going to be the tributes for this year’s Quell, and that can’t really happen if we all kill ourselves, now can it?”

Finally, they listened to her, and carried out their bodies through the backdoor, moving silently. The two Peacekeepers who were apparently in charge turned to face Athena.

“Will there be a funeral?” said one of them.

“Yes,” Athena said at once.

“Who will arrange it?”

And because Athena knew there was no one else for it (they were orphans, Penelope and Talisa, and she had been the closest to them out of anyone in Victor’s Village), she said, “Me.” After all, if she didn’t do it, nobody would, and there had to be a funeral. Penelope and Talisa deserved that much. And if she could not save them, at least she could do this for them.

She was escorted out of the house once the bodies were gone and the place was cleaned up, and the two Peacekeepers who were in charge ordered her to go back to her home, but once they were gone, she did no such thing. Instead, with her heart feeling like it would burst from the pain of it all, dread and guilt and helplessness overwhelming her, she went to see the person she wanted to see most of all at that moment. She went to see Finnick.

Finnick did not answer the door when she knocked. She knocked again and again and again, calling his name over and over, and still he did not answer, and panic and a fear she had not felt in a long time was seizing Athena now, because Finnick always answered when Athena knocked; even if he was sleeping, he usually slept light enough to hear when she was at the door.

She took her keys out from out of the pocket of her trousers, and using the spare key Finnick had given her, unlocked the door, opened it, and stepped inside.

“Finnick?” she called out. “FINNICK? FINNICK!”

And after seeing Penelope and Talisa, finding their dead bodies, she was terrified, terrified in a way that threatened to send her to ruins, when there was no reply. Moving fast and frantic, she ran all over the house, checking every single room for any sign of him. He was nowhere to be found. And for the moment, she knew nothing but fear, but she knew where to find Finnick when he was not home... she had to check, she had to see, she needed to be sure...

She ran out of the house, locking the door behind her, and ran as fast as she could out of Victor’s Village. She sprinted through the district, keeping out of sight of Peacekeepers, until she reached the beach, and then she kept running as fast as her legs could carry her until she found it, the place they always went when they wanted to hide away from the rest of the world...

Relief flooded through her when she reached the mouth of the cave and saw Finnick sitting against the cave wall, his knees brought up to his chest and his head buried in his hands, looking distinctly disheveled. He looked up at the sound of her quiet footsteps, and she realized, looking down at his face, that he had been crying. His eyes were puffy and ringed red with tears, and tear tracks stained his cheeks.

“I’ve been looking for you,” she said, rather lamely, out of breath from running so hard, when he simply looked at her and said nothing.

“You found me,” he said blankly.

“Do you - is it okay if I sit?” she asked weakly.

Finnick just nodded toward the empty space next to him, indicating for her to sit. Athena wandered over and sat next to him, stretching out her legs and saying nothing for a time. She was shivering again, and Finnick seemed to think it was from the cold, because he took off his jacket and handed it to her.

“But you’ll be cold - ”

He just held it out to her. “Take it."

Athena stared at her for a little longer, saw he was serious, and finally took the jacket, thanking him. If nothing else, she didn’t have i in her to argue about something so trivial at that moment. She hadn't realized how cold she actually had been until she was wrapped in the warmth of the jacket. It smelled like him, she noted, and, just slightly, she could breathe easier. They were silent for a little longer, until she spoke.

“I’m going to take a wild guess and say you saw the announcement?”

He let out a laugh at that, though it was bitter and humorless. “Yeah, I saw it. I wish I was more surprised, too. This is all life is for any of us. They take and they take, and then when you think you can live the rest of your life in peace, they take some more. It never ends. For any of us.”

“It looks like it,” she agreed thickly, nodding. “I - uh - I would’ve come to see you earlier - you were the first person I really wanted to see - but I got so caught up in making sure everyone else was okay that I couldn’t until - until now, really.”

His face softened as he looked at her then. “I’m sorry. I should’ve helped you. I should’ve helped look after everyone else, but he made that announcement and I didn’t know what to do and I just - I ran. Like a coward.”

“You’re not a coward, Finnick,” Athena shook her head. “You’re far from it. I understand. We all do.”

He nodded, before asking tentatively, “How - how is everyone?”

Athena was silent for a moment, and she could see the way Annie looked in the bath, frail and small and hurt. She could hear the ringing silence in Mags’ house, see the hopelessness in Mags’ eyes as she remained silent, no matter how much Athena begged and pleaded. She could see the broken furniture strewn around Roman’s living room, hear his cries of rage, hiding his grief, his hurt. She could see the wild look in Murphy’s eyes, darting around desperately for some sort of way to escape the Quarter Quell, to escape everything. She could see Noah in his drunken state, desperate for a chance to numb the pain, to forget the feeling of helplessness, to drink away the reality of it all. She could feel Lillian’s vice-like grip on her, the desperation in her voice as she begged for them to run away before Snow could hurt them again. Most hauntingly of all, though, Athena could see Talisa and Penelope Nereus, their bodies swaying gently as the ceiling fan sent them around and around and around in a never-ending circle, their wide eyes staring ahead unseeingly.

“Penelope and Talisa are dead,” she said, the very words making her stomach turn. “They hanged themselves. Not long after Snow’s announcement, from the looks of it. I ended up getting to their house last, by the time I was there it was too late.” Her guilt felt like a real, physical thing, knocking her off kilter and making her head feel dangerously light. “I should’ve known. They were nervous about this Quarter Quell, everyone knew it! They even told me - they _told_ me to my face - that they couldn’t handle much more. I should’ve known the minute he made the announcement, I should’ve gotten there sooner, I should’ve - “

“Hey,” Finnick said, looking over at her and grabbing her hand. “Hey, this isn’t your fault. None of this is your fault. Don’t blame yourself.”

Athena just shook her head, unable to shake the feeling that she could have stopped them if she had only been there sooner. Still, she pressed on. “I called Peacekeepers to take the bodies away. I made sure nobody in the Village saw, they wouldn’t be able to take that right now. I agreed to take care of the funeral. No one else would do it if I didn’t, and they deserve a funeral. Besides, it’s what I do, isn’t it? Sort out funerals, tend to the graveyard.

“Everyone else is... alive,” she said slowly, shrugging. “It’s the best we can get right now. I didn’t leave anyone until I was sure they’d be fine on their own again. I'm going to see them all tomorrow morning, see how they're all doing. Annie was... bad. She was freaking out, screaming, crying, pulling her hair. She threw up once, before I got there. I took care of it, though. I got her cleaned up, and she calm down eventually. She’s scared out of her mind, she doesn’t understand why this is happening - no one does - but she wasn’t doing too bad when I left her.

“Mags has gone silent again. I tried everything to get her to talk; I tried making her laugh, I tried telling her stories, I tried getting her to tell me one, I begged her. Nothing. I don’t know how long this one will last. You can try when - when you’re up for it, I mean - but I think it’s best right now if we don’t push her too much.

“Roman was more... angry than anything. He kept throwing stuff around, breaking his furniture. He tried to hurt everyone and everything around him, including himself. Casper tried to stop it, but he wasn’t really... equipped to deal with the situation. I managed to get him to stop before he did any real damage, though. Casper and I helped him clean it up. He ranted about - everything to us. Not even just Snow or the Quell. Anything in the world that made him angry, pretty much. We let him. I figured it was better to let him get his anger out in a way that didn’t get anyone hurt. By the time we were done cleaning, he was just tired. Collapsed on the couch, fell asleep right away. I’m going with them tomorrow to help them replace all their furniture, helping them move it in.

“Murphy was - uh - seeing things. He thought I was Snow. He thought I was going to hurt him. He kept begging me to have mercy, to leave him be, that I’d already done enough damage. I managed to make him see that I wasn’t Snow and that I wasn’t going to hurt him, but he’s still not much better. _I’m_ not trying to hurt him, but the real Snow is.

“Noah was drunk - as in, he was completely gone. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone that drunk before. Nothing he said made sense, he could barely walk. He’d kill himself if he drank anymore, so I tried to take his liquor from him. He... didn’t take kindly to it. He tried to attack me, but I knocked him out. It wasn't that hard, drunk as he was and all. There was nothing else I could do, he was too drunk to reason with. I put him in his bed and then I pretty much locked him out of his liquor cabinet in case he woke up. I did this really complicated knot he won’t have any hope of untying unless he’s completely sober. Hopefully, by that point, he’ll get back some of his common sense.

“Lillian was seeing things, too. Remember her husband? The one Mags told us about? They won back-to-back Games, met in Victor’s Village, got married a while later until he died twenty years back? I think she thought I was him. She kept holding onto me, begging me to run away with her before Snow could hurt us again. She said she loved me too much to let anything happen to me. I think Lillian likes me, but not that much. I couldn't make her see that I wasn't her husband, but I managed to convince her that nobody would hurt him - which is technically true, if a little morbid.

“And then I went to see you. When you didn’t answer the door, I - I got scared. Really scared. It was right after seeing that Talisa and Penelope hanged themselves, and I started thinking - well, I started thinking a lot of things. I figured you might be here, though, so I ran over and - uh - here I am,” she gestured around aimlessly, before asking him tentatively, “How are you?”

“Me?” he said, half-laughing. “I’m doing great. On top of the goddamn world.”

“Okay,” she admitted, nodding slowly. “Fair point. Stupid question.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said quietly, shifting slightly to sit closer to her. “I’m glad you’re here. I wanted to find you - it was the first thing I wanted to do. I just - I just lost it. But I wanted to see how you were holding up.”

“I’m okay,” she said, except that was a lie, and the cave with Finnick was one of the only places she never had to lie, so she shook her head and said, “No, I’m not. I’m not okay at all. I feel nauseous and the world keeps spinning and I’m light-headed and I’m surprised I’ve even made it this far without losing it.”

She hadn’t even been fully aware of most of those things, but once she said them, she knew them to be true. She didn’t know if saying it out loud made her feel better, but at least it was honest. She figured that had to count for something. Deciding to keep being honest, she said the thing that had been on her mind ever since she had started thinking semi-straight again.

“It’s going to be me, Finnick,” she said heavily, sighing. “I’m going to be the female tribute. Even if they don’t call my name, I’m going to volunteer. I'm the only one that has a fighting chance in the arena. Annie went mad during her Games. She won’t be able to stand going in again. She won't last long in the arena - and that's if she makes it to the arena and doesn't try to run away or kill herself or - or _something_. Mags is smart, and she was strong when she was younger, but she's old now. She's slower and weaker and she uses a cane to walk most of the time. She goes into the arena, she lasts - what? - a week? And that’s me being generous. Lillian isn’t too old and she’s strong, she’s an instructor at the academy, too, but there are tons of times where she can’t even get herself out of bed. How is that going to work in the arena? And she gets these bad hallucinations. They go in there, they die, that’s the only way it ends. I have a chance. It has to be me.”

Finnick was silent, taking this in. Saying it out loud definitely didn't make her feel better, but it hardened her resolve, cleared her head a little. It was easier to focus on what she needed to do.

“Could I convince you not to do it?” Finnick said finally.

“Probably not,” Athena admitted. “But maybe, if you tried. You could probably convince me to do - or not do - a lot of things. I'd like it if you didn't, though. It has to be me, Finnick.”

“ Okay,” he said slowly, nodding. “Then I'm going in, too.”

“Finnick,” she said immediately, shaking her head. “You don't have to do that. Roman, Noah, and Murphy might not be the most stable people in the world, but they're of a sound enough body and mind to have a chance in the arena. Besides, I'm going to need you and Mags as my mentors again. It worked the first time, why not now?”

“Mags can mentor us both,” Finnick retorted. “She’s a better mentor on her own than I ever was. If you’re going in there, so am I.”

“Well, that's very noble of you, but only one of us can come out - ”

“I know, and I'm going to make sure it’s you,” he said firmly. “I'm going to do everything I can to protect you.”

“Finnick, I can't let you do that,” she shook her head. “I don’t want to win if it means you die. If you go in, you should be the one to get out.”

“No, you need to win,” he shook his head. “You need to get back. I’ll do anything to make sure it happens.”

“Finnick, I don’t want to come back if you’re not there, too,” she insisted.

“And you think I want to live if you die in there?” he retorted hotly.

A heavy silence fell between them at that.

“So,” Athena finally said, sucking in a breath, “how does this one work? We both go into the arena, we both want the other one to survive, we both would do anything to protect the other, and only one of us can come out. How does that end? I guess we could both die. Step off the plate too early during the countdown and let the mines blow us to bits. Or we could wait until the end when we’re the only ones left. You do me and I do you - or, maybe you do me and then do yourself, because I don’t think I’ll ever be able to kill you, no matter what the situation. Or maybe if there’s nightlock... makes it quick and painless. And then there wouldn’t be any victor. Everyone wins but the Capitol - that’d be a nice change, wouldn’t it?

“Or maybe we could both make it out. Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark did it, so could we. If they can get away with it in District Twelve, we might have a chance,” she conceded, and he let out a laugh. They both knew they would have no chance at that, though; President Snow wouldn’t let the same mistake happen twice.

“We could run away,” he suggested, though with no real conviction.

“They’d catch us,” Athena pointed out softly. “We’d get put in front of a firing squad, we’d die anyways.”

“Maybe not,” Finnick said. “We’re both good at sailing, if we took the boat and sailed away, we’d have a chance. We could go right now,” he said, pointing at the ocean in the distance. “You and me, we’d make it. We’d be out of reach by morning if we went now.”

“Where would we go?” she asked, though she couldn’t deny that the thought was tempting.

Finnick shrugged. “We’d have the rest of our lives to figure that out, wouldn’t we? We’d find somewhere else to go - anywhere else.”

“There is no somewhere else,” Athena said. “Panem is all that’s left.”

“So they say,” Finnick countered. “Come on, you and I both know that most of what they taught us here is a lie. Maybe there’s some country on an island far, far away that we could settle in, somewhere they’ve never heard of Panem or the Hunger Games or any of it. We could start a new life.”

“It’s a nice thought,” she admitted. “District Four is home, though, it’s where everything is. Calypso and my mother, Annie and Mags, everyone... we couldn’t just leave them.”

“We’d take them with us,” Finnick shrugged.

“Calypso in the middle of the ocean?” Athena snorted, raising her eyebrows. “Remember when we tried taking her sailing once and she threw up all over your shoes after ten minutes?”

“I try to forget,” Finnick replied, grinning.

She laughed, and he joined in soon, the two of them laughing like they weren’t discussing how best to escape their likely imminent deaths. It was most likely the stress, the anxiety, the nerves getting to them.

“Finnick,” she sighed, when their laughter had died down, “what are we going to do?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted softly. “But whatever we do, we do it together, okay? You, me, and Mags. We’ll see this through together.”

He took her hand in hers again, looking in her eyes. She nodded once, smiling faintly, squeezing his hand.

“Okay,” she said. “You, me, and Mags.”

They didn’t have much. They had no plan and little hope to make it out alive. They had each other, though, and for now, it seemed that would do just fine.


	5. IV

**IV**

 

Athena and Finnick ended up back at Athena's house hours later, when they both decided they were ready to rejoin the world again. Neither Finnick nor Athena wanted to be away from each other that night, and Athena did not want to worry her mother and Calypso any more, so the only thing to do was go to her house.

As soon as Athena and Finnick stepped into the house, Calypso and her mother burst into the hallway from the sitting room, relief spreading across their faces at the sight of them. Athena was a little surprised to see them still awake, but when she thought about it, she understood why; had one of them ran off after an announcement like the one Snow gave, she would be nearly sick with worry too, she wouldn't be able to sleep until she knew they were okay too.

“Oh, thank God!” said her mother, rushing forward to hug her tightly. “After that announcement... and then when you ran out... we were so worried...” She pulled away, holding her daughter's face in her hands. “How are you?”

“I'm fine, Mom,” Athena said, as firmly as she could say something that was such a lie. When her mother looked uncertain, she said, putting on a brave smile. “Really. Fine,” she said again, this time to Calypso, when her mother moved away and her younger sister approached her instead, pulling her into a tight hug.

They turned their attention to Finnick, with the same sort of concern on their faces.

“How are you, Finnick?” her mother asked, placing a hand on his shoulder gently.

“Fine,” he said bracingly. “Really, I am.”

Athena's mother and Calypso looked distinctly like they knew they weren't really being honest, but they simply nodded, the former saying, “We didn't see or hear any sign of anyone, and then you were gone for so long...”

“I'm sorry,” Athena said, feeling guilty for worrying them so much. “I should've come back sooner, I know, but after the announcement, I just... I needed to be alone. And then I got caught up in making sure everyone else was okay. I lost track of time at some point.”

Understanding washed over their faces, and Calypso said tentatively, “And? How is everyone?”

Athena and Finnick exchanged looks, before the former took a deep breath and said, “Penelope and Talisa killed themselves.” Shock and horror crossed Calypso's face, and their mother clamped her hand over her mouth, horrified. “Sometime after the announcement. I ended up getting to their house last, I didn't make it in time, I couldn't save them...” Athena sensed that her voice was about to break, so she stopped herself abruptly. She paused, took a deep breath, and continued, as steadily as she could. “I called in Peacekeepers to take them away. I'll be taking care of the funeral. Everyone else is alive and well - as well as they can get, anyway. I'm going to check on everyone tomorrow, though.”

Calypso and their mother nodded in understanding, before the latter said, sighing heavily, “It’s... it’s been a long night. We should all... we should all try and get some sleep.”

Calypso and their mother did not question it when Athena and Finnick both trooped upstairs, nor did they question it when they collapsed into Athena’s bed together. Had it been anyone else, it would’ve caused raised eyebrows at the very least, but Finnick was the exception to the rule when it came to Athena and men, so nobody said anything of it.

Neither Athena nor Finnick slept much. They simply lied in her bed together, watching the sun slowly come into sight, flooding her bedroom with warm light.

“I'll help you,” Finnick said finally. “You said you're gonna check on everyone today. I'll help. You shouldn't have to do it alone.”

“Are you sure you're up to - ?” she began.

“I am,” he said firmly.

And admittedly, Athena felt the weight on her shoulders lighten just slightly.

It wasn't long after that that everyone in the Maris household was up and moving again. Her mother, Calypso, and Finnick were working on breakfast, while Athena called Hudson. She wanted to let Hudson know that she and Finnick would be late for their shift, but Hudson cut her off before she could finish her sentence.

“You're not coming into work today. Neither of you.”

“I - what?” Athena stuttered. “We were scheduled to come in - ”

“You think I'm letting you come into work after last night?” Hudson said. “You both’ll have enough to be getting on without worrying about what's going on over on the docks.”

“Hudson -”

“Take the time off, Maris,” Hudson said firmly. “That's an order from your captain. Come back when you're ready - when you're _actually_ ready.”

There was no use in arguing, Athena knew, so she just nodded and said, “Okay. I'll pass the message along to Finnick, too.”

“Good,” Hudson said, satisfied. There was a pause. “Take care of yourself, Maris. Please.”

The request caught Athena off guard a little. In the end, all she could do was stutter out, “I will. I promise.”

When they hung up, Athena simply stood by the receiver for a time, an inexplicable heaviness in her chest. Then, she was being called over for breakfast, so she took a breath, bracing herself, and joined her mother, Calypso, and Finnick for breakfast.

 

*

 

When Murphy Arno answered the door, Finnick found him less hungover than he had expected him to be. Despite the fact that they were on good terms, Murphy did not seem very excited to see him - but, then again, Finnick hadn't expected to see any joy on his face. Not after last night.

“Odair,” Murphy said. “You're back.”

“I am,” Finnick agreed.

“It was a long two weeks,” he said.

“Trust me,” said Finnick, “it felt longer on my end.”

Murphy, as a victor, knew all about Finnick essentially being a slave to the Capitol. It was, at the very least, a threat that hung over every victor’s head, and for many, it was a reality. It had been a reality for Murphy, for a time when he had been younger. Murphy almost never talked about it, though, and everyone knew not to ask him about it.

Still, Finnick's awareness of this was why he could recognize the look on Murphy's face as one of understanding. “It guess it did.”

Murphy stepped aside, giving Finnick room to enter the house. When they were both settled in his sitting room, sitting across from each other, Finnick got to take a closer look at him. He looked years older than he had the last time Finnick had seen him. It was not hard to guess why. There was usually a glint of mischief and amusement in Murphy's eyes that was gone now. It was not hard to guess why.

“I can probably guess why you're here,” Murphy said. “Snow’s announcement, right? Athena told you I was going insane and you decided to see for yourself?”

“She didn't say that,” Finnick said. “And I was checking on your well-being more than watching the spectacle that is your downward spiral. I have a front row seat to my downward spiral every second of the day. I don't need to watch anyone else's.”

A hint of a smile crossed Murphy's face, but all he said was, “What did Athena tell you, then?”

“She said you thought she was gonna hurt you,” Finnick said. “She said you saw Snow.”

“She told you all that, did she?” Murphy said, his face impassive. “Should've known. You two don't keep anything from each other.”

Finnick said nothing. He couldn't deny it, after all. The only thing he didn't tell Athena were the things that were too dangerous to say, the things that had to be left unsaid, that could be expressed through exchanged looks and touches and nights spent together when neither of them could stand to be alone.

“Yeah, well,” Murphy said finally, “I saw our dear old president in a lot of things last night. Unavoidable, really.”

“What about now?” Finnick asked. “How are you now?”

“Well,” Murphy said contemplatively, “I haven’t done half the things I’ve thought about doing ever since the announcement, so clearly not too bad.”

“And the other half?” Finnick said, raising his eyebrows.

Murphy shrugged. “Could be worse.”

“Are you still seeing President Snow everywhere?”

“Too often,” Murphy said. “But I’m not... I’m fine, okay, kid?” Finnick’s eyebrows quirked up just slightly at the nickname; Murphy called anyone kid, no matter what their age, when he wanted to shut them down. Of course, when they actually were younger than them, like Finnick was, he was all the more prone to using it. “I’m not your concern. You can go ahead and tell Athena the same thing.”

“Whose concern are you, then?” Finnick asked, raising his eyebrows.

“My own,” Murphy said flatly. “I’m my own concern. No one else is. You should tell your soulmate that, too.”

The use of the term soulmate was evidently used to embarrass him, but it didn't really work. Finnick didn't think he believed in soulmates, but if they were real he knew that Athena was his. Their souls were the same, cut from the same cloth, taken from the same corner of the universe. It was a pleasant thought until he remembered they could never act on it, and even if they could, he likely would never deserve Athena anyway.

“And what about your soulmate?” Finnick said at last, and after a moment of thought Murphy seemed to realize he meant Noah. “What would he have to say about that? And speaking of which, do you know how he's been holding up?”

Murphy straightened up abruptly, and he seemed to forget about trying to push Finnick away for a moment. “Why? How is he? What happened?”

“Athena went to see him last night,” Finnick said. “He was blackout drunk, the worst he's ever been. Athena had to knock him out.”

Murphy all but collapsed against his seat, his face clouding over, staring blankly at a spot on the floor, the worry for his longtime companion evident. “Is that as bad as it gets? I mean, for everyone?”

“Penelope and Talisa are dead,” Finnick said, and saying it left a heaviness in his chest. They weren't technically his tributes, not anymore, but he still felt like he had failed them. He should have looked after them, after all... “Killed themselves after the announcement. Everyone else is surviving.”

Murphy was stunned into silence for a moment, before saying, “They were always... but I never thought they'd... I thought as long as they had each other...”

“I know,” Finnick said. “But that's probably part of it. If one of them had to lose the other through this Quell...”

Murphy nodded slowly in agreement. There was a long silence, before he spoke again. “I should go see Noah.”

Finnick didn't try to dispute this, only saying, “Athena's going to see him right now. She's good at handling this kind of thing.”

“She is,” Murphy said, then looked back at him. “She handled you.”

 _Is it handling if I let her do it?_ Finnick thought. Really, he should have been a little scared of Athena, at the way she had managed to creep up on him and tear down all the walls he had built for himself, at the ease with which she had settled into his heart, but something about Athena was too soothing, too familiar, too calming and safe, to be frightened of her.

“Didn't she handle all of us?” Finnick said at last, because really, Finnick did not understand how you could interact with Athena Maris for longer than five minutes and not walk away from it at least slightly in love with her. His first conversations with her served as proof of that.

“It was different with you,” Murphy said.

This was undoubtedly true, but it was also not why he came here, and in any case, they were approaching things that could not be said out loud, and Murphy probably knew this, too.

“This is a great talk, but I didn't come here to talk about Athena,” Finnick said. “By all means, find me any other time and I'll be glad to talk about her extensively.” He had meant for it to sound sarcastic, but the fact that he probably _could_ talk about Athena for hours on end sort of ruined it. “I came to talk about you. About how you're feeling.”

“And what exactly do you think you can do about it?” Murphy said. “About how I'm feeling?”

“Maybe I can fix it,” Finnick shrugged. “Maybe I can handle it.”

“Big words from someone who's half my age,” Murphy said with raised eyebrows.

“Ah, well, you know my philosophy, Murphy,” Finnick said, in a would-be airy way. “Age is just a number.”

_Especially when you had to be an adult before you could really be a teenager. Especially when you had killed seven other children at fourteen._

Murphy stared at Finnick contemplatively for a time, before saying, “You know how I feel? I feel that all they do is take. When you remember that, they can't surprise you. First they took our freedom, then our children, then our futures, and now our hope. It's right on par for them, when you think about it.” Finnick said nothing, because this was undeniable. “But I just wanted... I wanted something that I could keep. That's all. And you know something else, Odair?” he continued. “I don't want to go back in there. I can't.”

“Then don't volunteer,” Finnick said, remembering what he had told Athena the previous night. It hadn't been something he had said in the heat of the moment; if Athena was going in the arena, then so was he.

“And if I get Reaped?” Murphy said. “Who the hell is going to volunteer to go back in there?”

“Don't worry about that,” Finnick said simply.

“Why not?” Murphy said, frowning.

“Just don't worry,” Finnick said again. “You'll be fine.”

“How can you be so sure?” Murphy said suspiciously.

“Well,” Finnick began; he wasn't entirely sure why he was deciding to keep the fact that he was going to volunteer a secret, but it felt like something that should stay between him, Athena, and Mags. At least for now. “Anything could happen in a Quarter Quell, but I've got a good feeling about how this one is going to play out. And you're going to be fine.”

“And you?” Murphy said, raising his eyebrows. “Are you going to be fine?”

Finnick made himself smirk, putting on the usual mask. “Aren't I always?”

 

*

 

Athena did not expect Noah to be particularly pleased to see her after the events of the previous night. As such, when Noah opened the door after she knocked, she was not surprised when he simply stared at her for a long time, before grumbling out, “You fucking bitch.”

“Good morning to you too, Noah.”

“You're really gonna come back here all confident after what you did?” he demanded, indignation all over his tone.

“And what exactly did I do, Noah?” Athena demanded, a little impatiently, her hands on her hips. Though she did not expect any sort of affection from him at a time like this, she refused to let him act like she had somehow done him wrong.

“You knocked me out!”

“You were going to attack me with a broken bottle.”

He frowned, looking troubled by this statement. “That part hadn't come back to me yet.”

“That's convenient,” Athena said shortly. Noah had a troubled, guilty look on his face. “Can I come in?”

He nodded, moving aside to let her inside the house. She looked around as she entered the sitting room. The scent of alcohol was heavy on him and all over the house, but she couldn't find any liquor anywhere.

“I haven't managed to undo that fucking knot you made,” Noah said. “I hope you're satisfied.”

Athena sort of was, but knew better than to express that. “You're not still drunk, are you?”

“No, but I'm the most hungover that I've ever been,” he replied. “I can't focus on anything else long enough to undo that knot.” There was a pause. “Can you do it for me?”

“Of course not,” Athena said at once. Noah looked disgruntled. “Did you expect anything else?”

“No,” he admitted. “But it was worth a shot.”

“If you say so.”

There was a pause, before Noah said, “My headache probably wouldn't be this bad if you didn't hit me so hard, you know.”

Athena gave him a look. “You know you drank too much, right?”

“Yeah.”

“And you would've hurt yourself and me.”

“Probably.”

“And that I made the right call by knocking you out.”

“Yeah.”

“So you know it's not actually me you're mad at, don't you?” Athena said finally.

Noah said nothing. Neither of them said who he was actually mad at, but it seemed fairly obvious. He was mad at himself, at least partially, for losing control in such a way, but he was mainly mad at the Capitol, at Snow and the Gamemakers, for putting them in this position in the first place.

There was a silence, before Noah said, “So, did anyone else take it worse than me?”

Athena knew that was his way of asking if everyone else was okay, so she said, “Penelope and Talisa killed themselves.” Noah sucked in a breath at that, his eyes dropping to the floor. “They did it right after the announcement, I got to them too late... everyone else is... alive, even if they're not taking it well.”

Noah swore under his breath, before he said, “It makes sense... people like them... people like us... we just need one big enough push in the right direction for us to go over the edge.”

This was undoubtedly true. They had both seen it enough times to know it.

“You should see Murphy,” Athena said after a time.

“Why?” asked Noah, straightening up. “How's he doing? Better than me?”

“Depends on your definition of better,” Athena replied. “He was seeing things. Thought I was President Snow.”

“Again?” Noah said, concern etched into his face. Athena nodded. “I should go see him.” And he made to stand up from his place in an armchair, but let out a groan and sunk back. “After this hangover’s a little better.”

“Good idea,” Athena agreed solemnly. “Finnick's checking on him right now, so he's not alone.”

“He came back right on time for the big news,” Noah commented.

“Better here than where he was before,” Athena pointed out; hearing the announcement was bad enough, it would be damn near unbearable having to hear it while trapped in the Capitol.

“Can’t argue with that,” Noah murmured. “Fucking hell... I haven’t been back there in years... I don’t know if I could do it, Athena. Especially the arena again...”

His words reminded her of her conversation with Finnick the previous night. The thing was, she knew Finnick had not just been speaking in the heat of the moment, nor would he take it back any time soon; he really would follow her right into the arena. This fact, along with the fact that she didn't want to leave her mother and sister behind again, were the only things that made her hesitant to do what she needed to do.

“I wouldn’t worry about it,” Athena said simply.

Noah frowned. “Why not?”

And Athena wasn’t entirely sure what the point of keeping it from him was, but she felt inexplicably like this should stay between her, Finnick, and Mags for the time being, so she just said, “Just... don’t worry about it. The Reaping’s not for months, anyway.”

Noah didn’t seem settled. “But we should all be getting ready for it, right?”

 _Right you are,_ Athena thought, knowing that after they were done checking up on their fellow victors, she and Finnick would meet up with Mags to figure out a plan for themselves, but she didn’t say anything about it. Instead, she leaned forward in her seat and said, “Worry about getting through right now, not something months in the future. Worry about the present. That’s your biggest problem right now.”

Slowly, Noah nodded, but he still looked unsettled and suspicious.

“You two look after all of us,” Noah said. “Who looks after you two?”

“We do,” Athena said with a shrug. “It's a very mutual thing.”

_And what happens if it's just us left in the arena?_

Athena didn't let herself think about it.

 

*

 

Annie took a long time to answer the door when Finnick knocked. This was usually the case, but he could never help but be worried anyway, and especially at a time like this; it was hard to know just what Annie was doing on the other side of that door. When she answered the door at last, she looked like she was close to folding in on herself. She took one look at Finnick, and promptly flung her arms around him in a hug. He was quick to hug her back, holding her tightly as her whole body shook in his arms.

“Finnick,” she said shakily. “They did it again. They did it again.”

“They did,” Finnick agreed, making himself as steady as he could.

They moved to sit side by side on her sofa, so close their arms brushed against each other. Physical contact from the right people was just the thing Annie needed most of the time, so he and Athena and Mags all made sure she never went too long without being in contact with anybody. Finnick knew she'd need it now more than ever.

“How are you?”

“Not good,” Annie shook her head. “I tried to sleep, but I couldn't. I went to the beach for a couple hours.”

“Did that help?”

“The beach makes most things better,” Annie said.

“Most,” Finnick repeated lightly.

“Most,” Annie said again firmly. “Athena helped, too.” She straightened up suddenly. “Is she okay? Are _you_ okay?”

“Kind of hard to be okay right now,” Finnick said, “but we're both surviving. She and I are going around and checking on everyone. It's... been a rough night for all of us.”

Annie nodded in understanding, asking tentatively, “How... how bad is it?”

“Penelope and Talisa,” he said carefully, “they... they hanged themselves after the announcement.”

Annie let out a horrified gasp, hanging her head and covering it with her hands. Finnick put an arm around her shoulders, waited patiently until she re-emerged.

“Is there - is there anyone else?” she asked slowly, looking over at him as though fearing the answer.

“No,” Finnick shook his head, and she heaved a shuddering sigh of relief, leaning back into the sofa. “Everyone else is alive, at least.”

Annie nodded. “Athena helped too. Last night. I was really bad. Really, really bad.” Annie looked embarrassed and ashamed now. “And she helped. She always does. You and Athena and Mags, you always have to look after me.”

“Don't worry, Annie,” Finnick said at once. “It's what friends do. It's what family does.”

And since Athena and Mags and Annie were and had been his family for years now, it really only made sense that he was here now.

“Still,” she grumbled. “It’s like you guys are always there to pick up the pieces. I don't know what I'd do without it. I don't know what I'd do if you guys...”

She stopped herself abruptly, going silent. Finnick knew without being told that she meant if they were to go back in the arena. He held her a little tighter, but could not bring himself to say anything, not when he knew what he and Athena were planning. Quite suddenly, he felt guilty. He felt like he was failing Annie, failing this girl who was family to him. He tried to think of something to say, anything that might make this better, when Annie spoke suddenly.

“My parents called. After I got back from the beach.”

Finnick tensed. He had no fondness in his heart for Annie's parents, but he'd probably hate them less if they didn't try to contact her after they had left her on her own years ago. He, Athena, and Mags all often contemplated confronting them on it; they only stopped themselves due to the knowledge that Annie would not like it.

“What did they say?”

“They said... they said I shouldn't go back in the arena,” she said slowly. “That I shouldn't volunteer, and that... that I should get Athena to volunteer for me if they call my name.”

“Athena,” Finnick repeated in a hard voice, now dangerously close to going right to them and punching their teeth in.

“They said,” Annie said, “that Athena’s young and strong and a good warrior. They said she has a better chance of winning and better her than me.”

Finnick did not speak, mainly because he did not trust himself to; it had been a long time since he'd been this angry, this furious. For them to treat Athena as expendable, as disposable... especially when Athena had done more for their daughter than they had since her Games...

Annie said, quite suddenly, “I told them not to talk to me again.”

Finnick looked over at Annie, surprised. Despite the fact that these phone calls from her parents had never really done her any good, he knew she was still desperate to cling to some sort of relationship with her parents that she never put an end to them. The fact that she had now was shocking at the very least.

“I told them not to call me, and not to come see me here, and if they did I wouldn't answer,” Annie said, clearly fighting to steady her voice. “Not after that. Athena is one of my best friends. She's family.”

“Well,” Finnick said slowly, “I'm glad. You deserve better.”

Annie nodded slowly. “Yes, I'm starting to think so, too. Anyway, Athena definitely does. I can't stand the thought of going back in there, but that doesn't mean Athena should have to. She deserves more than that.”

Finnick had to agree, because he thought very often about how Athena Maris did not deserve a great deal of the hand she had been dealt in life. He also had to think about the finality in Athena's voice when she said she would volunteer; there was no question of it, she saw it as the only way. There was nothing else to her but go into that arena from which she might not return...

 _That's why you'll be there,_ he reminded himself. _To protect her._

“But,” Annie was saying, more hesitantly, “I still really don't think I could do it, Finnick. I can't go back in there. I won't even make it to the arena, I know it.”

Finnick suspected this himself and knew this could not happen. He brought Annie a little closer to himself and said, “Don't worry about it. You're gonna be fine.”

“How can you _know_ that, though?” Annie asked, looking up at him in confusion.

“I... I've got a feeling,” Finnick said finally. “Those usually turn out to be right.”

“Does that feeling say that we're _all_ going to be okay?”

Truthfully, any feeling he had about all of their fates pointed to doom. He couldn't stand saying it out loud, though, especially to Annie.

“Well,” he said at last, “anything’s possible.”

 

*

 

When Lillian answered her door upon Athena knocking on it, there were several moments where Athena thought she was going to hit her or slam the door in her face or both. Instead, however, unmistakable shame crossed her face; she seemed to fold in herself, unable, it seemed, to even look at Athena. It didn’t seem like Lillian was going to talk any time soon, so Athena did it first.

“Good morning, Lillian.”

“Hi, Athena,” said Lillian, looking at a spot an inch over her head instead of at her.

“I just - I came to see how you were doing,” Athena said bracingly. “You know - after last night - the announcement and everything - ”

“Look,” Lillian said abruptly, “last night - what you saw - the stuff I was saying - that was nothing, okay? I know what you’re thinking, but that wasn’t anything. Really.”

Athena blinked. “It didn’t seem like nothing.”

“Well, it was,” Lillian said bluntly. “Trust me, it was nothing. Just... don’t worry about it. Don’t worry about me. Everything’s fine. Go take care of yourself.”

Lillian still wasn’t looking her in the eye, as though unable to do it. Clearly written all over her expression and body language was shame and embarrassment. And with a whoosh of understanding, Athena understood why Lillian was behaving this way. She was embarrassed, not only that she had hallucinated her dead husband the way she had, but that Athena had seen it happen.

“Hey,” Athena said, a little gently, “last night... that... stuff like that happens to all of us. I see things - see people too. It happens.”

“Who said I didn’t know that?” Lillian said harshly, but ended up looking more embarrassed than ever at her outburst. Finally, she glanced at Athena and said in a deflated voice, “Come on in, then.”

A few moments later, they were standing beside each other in her dining room, and Lillian had an old, leather-bound book in her hands. She opened it so that Athena could see that it was a photobook. Lillian flicked through pages containing pictures that must have been Lillian when she was younger, photographs of people who must have been her family, before she finally stopped at a photographs with a young man with warm brown eyes, wavy dark hair, a thin face, and smooth mahogany-coloured skin. In some photos, he was with a younger version of Lillian; in others, he was with either his family or hers; in others, he was alone. She recognized him immediately as Lillian’s former husband. They must have gotten married very young, Athena realized.

“There he is,” Lillian said in soft tones Athena had never heard from Lillian, a sad, slightly broken smile stretching across her lips. “That’s him. My Marlon.”

“He’s really handsome,” Athena said, a little weakly.

“The pictures don’t do him justice,” Lillian insisted. “You should’ve seen him in person. The whole room seemed to glow. The most beautiful man I’ve ever seen...

“He won his Games the year after me, but he was in my year at the academy. I saw him everywhere, but I never... I was one of the more popular students, always running around, while he kept to himself... I didn’t really see him, I didn’t give him the time the way I should’ve... but I met him after he won. Before I thought love was a waste of time, but I fell so fast I didn’t even realize what was happening until I was already so far gone...

“We got married before long. Mags helped us plan the whole thing,” Lillian was saying, and sure enough, she flipped to a picture that must have been at their wedding; Lillian was wearing a long white gown of some floaty material with teal accents, while the man wore an outfit that complimented hers. Mags stood a little off to the side, beaming at them. The decorations were extravagant, and it wasn’t hard to guess why; the marriage of two victors would not be considered a small thing to the Capitol. They likely got involved in the planning and televised the whole event; she wouldn’t be surprised if they incorporated Capitol traditions along with those of District Four or disregarded the District Four traditions altogether. “We didn’t get everything we wanted because people... intervened, but it was enough. More than enough.

“I had never had much interest in marriage until then, but it was everything to me. He was - is - everything to me. You'll know all about that, I bet,” Lillian added.

“Um - I've never been married before - ” Athena said, staring at Lillian in confusion. Athena didn't really want to get married, anyway (or, more likely, she knew, she did want to get married but the only person she could ever see herself marrying was someone she could never be with openly).

“Maybe,” Lillian murmured, “but I’ve seen you and Finnick together. You two are something else.”

“I - I don’t know about that,” Athena said, a little awkwardly.

“Well, I do,” Lillian said shortly. “I'd be blind not to see it.”

Athena didn't say anything; she didn't know what to say. This was already dangerously close to forbidden things as it was, and it was hard to shake the feeling of being watched. Lillian seemed to realise this too before long, seemed to remember the things Snow forced Finnick to do and what it meant, because quite suddenly, she snapped the photo book shut and put it back on its place in the shelf, saying, “But never mind that...”

Lillian all but collapsed onto a chair at the table. Athena pulled up a chair to sit across from her.

“You should probably know,” Athena said, a little unsteadily, clenching her hands to steady them, “Penelope and Talisa... after they heard the news, they... they couldn’t stand it. They killed themselves right after. I’m the one who found their bodies.”

Something about having to repeat it so many times made it more real instead of a particularly awful nightmare. She was not sure if that made it better or worse.

Lillian looked crestfallen but unsurprised.

“Figures,” she murmured. “Figures... I knew there’d be deaths among us because of this... makes sense that they’re not all within the arena...” A silence, before Lillian sighed deeply, running a hand through her blonde hair, “Marlon always wanted me to be safe. To be safe and happy. He wanted me to take care of myself. And now... this Quell...”

Athena felt horrible looking at Lillian just then. She had lost her husband, the love of her life, and she tried and tried to move on and put herself back together again, and now the Capitol was threatening to break her all over again...

Which was why Athena leaned forward in her chair, saying firmly, “They’re not going to touch you, Lillian. You’re going to stay out of that arena, I promise.”

“How can you know that?” Lillian demanded.

“Just trust me,” Athena said firmly. “We’ll all get through this, including you.”

Lillian nodded slowly, letting out a breath. And so the two of them sat there, ghosts pressing down upon them, trying not to let it overwhelm them completely.

 

*

 

The quiet of Mags’ place was not a surprise. Mags generally was not a loud person as it was, and given what Athena told him about Mags going quiet again, he expected silence. Still, this was an overwhelming silence, the kind that came from wounds that never truly got to heal, new wounds that burned just as badly. Though he had come to comfort Mags, as she pulled him to her, he forgot that for a moment and allowed himself to be pulled into the tight, motherly embrace. It was an effect Mags had quite often.

“How are you?” Finnick asked, holding onto her hands. “Are you okay?”

Mags shrugged, then shook her head slightly.

“Athena told me she went to see you,” Finnick explained. “I wanted to check up on you...”

Mags smiled a little warmly at that, patting his cheek with her hand, which was enough to tell him that she appreciated the gesture.

“Think you’re up to talking?” he asked. She hesitated, then shook her head. Finnick nodded in understanding, before signing, “That’s fine. People like us, we don’t need words anyway. Sign language work?”

Mags gave a relieved smile, nodding and signing, “Works for me.”

A few moments later they were sitting next to each other on the sofa, and Finnick was signing to her, “Athena will be here soon. We... we have something we want to talk about with you.”

Mags raised her eyebrows. “This doesn’t sound good. With you two, this could go a lot of ways...”

“Nothing like that,” Finnick signed immediately, giving her a look. “It’s about the Quell.”

“So not too much better, then,” Mags signed. “But at least it’s nothing new. You probably won’t give me any hints, will you?” Finnick didn’t answer right away, which was enough of an answer for Mags. “You always did like the dramatics.”

“What can I say?” Finnick signed, an uncontrollable bout of bitterness coming over him. “I’ve learned to put on a good show.” Mags looked at him with obvious concern at that, but before she could say anything on it, he added quickly, “She won’t be too long, it’s just that she and I have been checking on everyone else all morning.”

She nodded at once in understanding, concern on her face as she signed, “And? How is everyone?”

“For the most part, alive and as well as they can get,” Finnick signed back.

Mags frowned deeply, her brow furrowed in a way that made her look even older than she was, which always scared Finnick because it reminded him painfully of how Mags would die one day not too far in the future. “For the most part?”

Finnick sighed, signing, “Penelope and Talisa. They killed themselves. Last night after the announcement. Athena found their bodies.”

Mags clamped a hand over her mouth in horror. Despite the evident grief, the overwhelming sadness, in her eyes, Finnick could not say that she looked particularly surprised.

Finally, she signed, her hands shaking terribly, “They were so different after their Games... you saw it, too... so vulnerable... we tried to help them... Athena did, too... but they were so... they really only ever had each other, and they were always in too much of a negative place to ever really help each other... Athena was telling me just the other day how worried they were about this Quell...they never stood a chance, did they? Not against this Quell...”

Finnick had to agree; but then again, did any of them stand a chance? Against this Quell, after the Capitol, against Snow?

Either way, he had to push forward like they did, at least for Athena’s sake. He had no hope of protecting her in the arena if he had all but given up already.

Mags seemed to sense that Finnick was troubled, because she placed a hand on his shoulder, before signing, “How are you, son? How have you been holding up since the news?”

Finnick shrugged. “Can’t really be feeling too high right about now. I was with Athena for most of it after, though. She helped.”

Mags nodded in understanding, but sadness came over her visibly. “You two deserve much better... I can’t stand to watch it...”

Finnick got the feeling Mags meant more than the Quarter Quell. “Hey, it’s not your fault... nothing you could do...”

“Still,” Mags signed. “You’re family to me... both of you. You’re like a son to me, and she’s like a daughter. I wish I could do so much more to protect you...”

Finnick tried not to think about how Mags may very well be the one protecting them in the arena; he’d wait, at least, for Athena to be there. Instead, he just signed, “You do what you can, which is more than enough. I couldn’t be more grateful for you. I know Athena feels the same way.”

Mags smiled weakly at that. “And I feel the same way about you, the way you’ve both taken care of me. We make a good team.”

A good team. Yes, Finnick supposed they did. He and Mags as co-mentors, he and Athena as co-mentors, the three of them together during Athena’s Games and her Victory Tour, the three of them taking care of the other residents of Victor’s Village. They worked well together. A good team. Finnick thought about them working again as a team for this Quarter Quell, then pushed it out of his mind.

_Wait for Athena..._

Instead, he just signed, nodding firmly, “Yes. Yes, we do.”

 

*

 

The door to the Zale household opened before Athena could even knock. Roman stood on the other side of the door, fully dressed and clearly poorly rested and looking surprised to see her.

“Athena?”

“Roman,” Athena said, taking a step forward to take his face in her hands, examining him critically. “How are you?”

“I mean - not great - pretty shitty, actually - but what can you expect?” Roman said. “I - how are you? What are you doing here?”

“Maybe Casper didn’t tell you,” Athena replied, avoiding Roman’s first question, “but I figured you might need some help replacing that furniture from last night. I’m here to offer a helping hand.”

“Oh,” Roman said thickly. “Oh, Athena, you don’t have to - ”

“I want to,” Athena said firmly. “Don’t act like you won’t be saving time if you have an extra set of hands.”

Roman could not deny this, so he admitted defeat. “Thank you, Thena.”

“Don’t mention it,” Athena said at once, shrugging.

“You have good timing, actually,” Roman said. “We were just about to leave.”

At that moment, Casper appeared at the door, standing behind his younger brother. “Oh, hey, Athena. Look, thanks again for doing this.”

“Don’t mention it,” she said again, as they stepped out of the house and locked the door. Immediately, they set off for the markets, walking through Victor’s Village towards the gates.

“So,” Roman said, his hands in the pockets of his coat, in a would-be casual way, “knowing you, you’ve probably gone and made sure the rest of us didn’t completely didn’t lose our minds the way you did for me.”

“Something like that.

“So?” Roman prodded. “Is everyone okay?”

“Mainly,” Athena admitted. “I checked on some of the others again this morning, and Finnick has been, too. Everyone’s doing well enough except... except for Penelope and Talisa. They’re dead. Hanged themselves after the announcements.”

Both Roman and Casper both stopped dead in their tracks. They stared at her in shock. Athena turned to face them, looking back at them grimly.

“No - ” Casper said.

“They didn’t really - ” said Roman.

“They did,” Athena nodded sadly. “I found their bodies. I was too late to stop them...”

“Fuck,” Roman said under his breath. “I knew they were... any of us are liable to go off the edge like that, but I... I never thought.... after Siren...”

“I know,” Athena said quietly. “I know.”

After a while, they started moving again, but they drifted to a stop when they were passing Penelope and Talisa’s house. From the outside, it looked no different, but now it seemed like it had been abandoned for decades instead of hours. It filled Athena with a heavy dread and grief to look at it.

“They’re,” Roman said heavily, “they’re not still - ?”

“No,” Athena said at once, knowing what he was asking. “No, I got Peacekeepers to take them as soon as I saw them.”

“When’s the funeral?” Casper asked.

“I haven’t worked that out yet,” Athena said. “I’m planning it, though. They don’t have any family left, so when they asked who’s planning it I just said me.”

They nodded in understanding at that, their faces grim as they stared up at the house. Finally, Athena tore her eyes away from the now abandoned place and dragged Roman and Casper along, keeping them moving forward.

There was a similar tenseness outside of the isolated community of Victor’s Village, though it wasn’t on the same scale, and Athena knew at once it was because of the Quarter Quell. From the way people spoke to each in hushed whispers, especially as the group of three passed, to the way people stared like they were walking towards their execution rather than to the markets, like they had already become ghosts long ago. And though they could understand the horror of the situation, they could not understand it the way the victors did, and so their lingering stares made her feel uncomfortable and irritable. Roman seemed to hate it even more than she did.

“Didn’t anyone teach these fuckers not to stare?”

Athena warned him to lower his voice, but she certainly agreed with the sentiment. People stared at victors a lot, Athena had long since accepted it as something that came with the territory, but this was something else entirely.

As they neared the markets, Roman said, out of nowhere, “I think I could handle it. I could do it. Go back in the arena, I mean. I could make it.” Athena and Casper exchanged glances, and Roman frowned. “What? I’m still young and I’m strong.”

“I never said you weren’t,” Athena said at once. “But you know it comes down to more than that in the arena.” After all, strong people died year after year during the Games. She didn’t say that out loud, though. Instead, she said, “Don’t think about it too much. Let’s just focus on making your sitting room look real nice, okay?”

Roman admitted defeat, smiling a little at the comment, just as they reached the markets. At once, they began combing through shops, looking for replacements for the furniture, pushing the Quell from their minds.

 

*

 

Unsurprisingly, replacing the broken furniture and bringing it back to the Zale household took some time, but the job got done, all of them satisfied when they were finished. Athena left them when she was certain they would be okay, jogging over to Mags’ house. It was Finnick who answered when she knocked, which was not surprising, since she knew he would be there. She hadn’t realized how heavy she had felt until she felt the weight on her shoulders lighten at the sight of him.

“Hi,” she said with a smile, stepping inside as Finnick made room for her, shrugging off her jacket and kicking off her shoes. “How’d it go? How was everyone?”

“Good as it gets,” Finnick replied. “What about you?”

“About the same,” she said. “Is Mags okay?”

Mags came into the hallway just then, signing, “Right here.”

Athena walked over to her, placing her hands on her arms, saying, “Hey, it's good seeing you.”

Mags smiled, signing, “I could say the same for you.”

“Sign language for now?” Athena signed questioningly. Mags nodded. “Okay. Works for me.”

“We made tea,” Mags said, guiding the group of three to the dining room. “We saved a cup for you. It's still hot.”

Athena thanked her gratefully as she accepted the mug, the hot tea warming her hands after being out in the cold for so long. They all sat down around the table; Mags at the head, Athena and Finnick on either side of her, across from each other.

Finnick went into more detail about his visits with Murphy and Annie. Athena was relieved to hear that they were both okay, but shocked to hear about Annie cutting off her parents once and for all. She was even more shocked that it was, in a way, because of her. She couldn't even be angry at Annie's parents for declaring her as expendable due to her shock, though she knew Finnick and likely Annie both were. The fact that Annie finally let go of her parents after so many years of clinging onto them in any way she could despite the pain they brought her...

“Wow,” Athena said, stunned. “I mean, I'm glad she let them go. She's always deserved better.”

“Can't argue with that,” Mags signed. “Let's hope they actually do leave her alone.”

“They'd better,” Finnick said with a hard voice. “Let them see what I do if they don't... especially after what they said about you, Athena...”

Athena recounted her visits with Noah, Lillian, and Roman and Casper. Mags seemed unsurprised by Lillian's behaviour.

“She wants to pretend she's moved past it, but I know better. She was in love with him, she was crushed when he died. But nobody here but me was around when he was alive or when he died, no one saw what she was like... that made it easier to cover it up. It's no surprise she was embarrassed that you saw her in that state.”

Both Finnick and Mags took great interest in what Roman said about his odds in the Games.

“You think that means he's going to volunteer?” Finnick said, frowning. “There’s no way he _wants_ to go back in there...”

“I don’t know,” Athena admitted. “I don’t even think it’s about that. I think it’s more...” but she didn’t think she could say this out loud, so she switched to sign language. “I think it’s more about... about sending a ‘fuck you’ to Snow and the Capitol, you know? More about saying ‘you tried to break me and you didn’t, I’m going to play at your Game and win.’”

"No one wins at the Hunger Games,” Finnick signed. “There are survivors, but no winners."

“I know that,” Athena signed back. “I bet Roman knows it, too, but... he wants to believe in something that makes him feel like he still has some kind of power.”

“That makes sense,” Mags signed, her brow furrowed. “But that kind of mindset can be dangerous and destructive, especially in the Games. And Athena's right, strength didn't save a lot of people in the arena.”

Athena and Finnick exchanged looks at that, before the latter cleared his throat and said, “Well, he won't end up setting foot in the arena, anyway - unless he _wants_ to volunteer and we get really unlucky.”

Mags frowned. “What do you mean by that?”

Athena and Finnick exchanged looks. Athena spoke this time, saying, “Look, last night me and Finnick were talking - ”

“Oh, dear,” Mags signed, raising her eyebrows. She turned to Finnick. “Is this what you were talking about earlier?” He nodded. “Well, best to get this out there, then. What is it?”

“Well, after seeing everyone right after the announcement,” Athena continued, and she found it hard to look directly at Mags, so she looked instead at her half-drunk mug of tea, “I realised that out of all... out of all the women, I have the best chance of making it out of the arena... so it only makes sense if it's me to go in... so... if they don't call my name, I'm going to volunteer.”

“Oh, Athena - you don't have to,” Mags was signing immediately, a little frantically, shaking her head, though she didn't look particularly surprised.

“Yes, I do,” Athena said firmly. “If I'm not a tribute, then I'm a mentor. A mentor’s job is to protect. I couldn't handle seeing you or Annie or Lillian die in there, especially if I didn't do everything I could to protect you. I can do this. So I will. If I have the best chance of making it, then I should be the one who goes in there. So I will be.”

“As soon as she told me I decided to go in, too,” Finnick continued. “We can protect each other in there.”

“And you want me to mentor you,” Mags signed, understanding crossing her face. She looked thoughtful.

“I don't like it,” Athena confessed, “I've been mentoring all these years to keep you from having to do it, but... you're an amazing mentor, Mags. You mentored us and almost every other victors that's ever come out of this district. If we want to survive in there we need you.”

“Don't worry,” Mags signed, placing a hand over top of hers and squeezing briefly. “If you two are going in the arena, I want to do everything I can to help. If it means mentoring again, then so be it. I did it for all those years, I'll do it again. Anything I have to do, I will. Just one thing...”

“What?”

“I would like to mentor alone.”

Athena and Finnick exchanged stunned looks. Mentoring was an awful enough task with someone to help you. Athena had only gotten through it the past five years because she had had Finnick by her side. She couldn't imagine doing it on her own. The Quarter Quell would surely make it worse.

“Why?”

“Wouldn't someone to help you make it easier - ?”

“I did it on my own for many years, I can do it this year,” Mags signed calmly. “This year in particular, I think things will be much less complicated if I mentor alone. Besides, it's not like I will need to split up my time between you two, since I assume you two will be in it together every step of the way.”

Athena and Finnick exchanged looks again, before nodding.

“In that case, there should be no problems. Any other time I need help I can probably get from Alayne. She'll probably be even more involved and hard-working than usual, since it's a Quarter Quell.”

This, Athena knew, was probably true. In any case, she trusted Mags, even if she didn't fully understand her reasoning for this choice. One glance at Finnick told her he was in the same boat.

“Okay,” he said slowly. “We'll have to get it cleared by Snow, but I'm sure we can make it happen... I can talk to him.”

“Wonderful,” Mags signed with an approving nod.

But they had only scratched the surface of all the things they needed to figure out for this Quarter Quell. They still had an entire game plan they needed to devise. The first thing they did was determine a workout regimen for Athena and Finnick. They were both in decent shape due to all the work they did at the docks. This was partially out of necessity; the Capitol loved their bodies, they both knew. Loved the way they looked and loved gawking at them and loved putting them in tight, revealing clothes that put more emphasis on them. Which meant they could do nothing that ruined his muscular body or her toned, curvy one; if they did, the Capitol would resort to surgery, and the last thing either of them wanted was surgical modifications from the Capitol, so they kept their bodies in good shape.

It wouldn't be enough if they wanted to stand a chance in the arena, though. They needed to start training like Careers again, the way they did in the past. Starting the very next day, they would go on long runs every other day, and spend hours every day using the training facilities at the academy. They were fairly certain they could get permission from the headmaster to do it, so long as they only went in before or after school hours, and even if they couldn't, Finnick assured Athena that it was painfully easy to break in without getting caught (he used to do it quite frequently when he wanted more practice in the months leading up to him volunteering at age fourteen).

They also decided to contact Alayne so that she could send them tapes of every other victor from other districts, who were now potential tributes; their Games, any interviews or appearances they did, anything they could find to learn more about them. The more they knew about their competition, the better (because that was what they had to be viewed as now; not as people, not as friends they had come to know, but as competition, nothing more).

From there, they started discussing what angle they should approach things like the interview with Caesar. The options were endless, in this sense. They knew already that they had to be funny and charming and kind and playful and flirtatious, but there had to be more than that. They needed to make the Capitol love them so much they would want nothing more than to protect them. This would not be too hard, since they were already so adored in the Capitol, but they couldn't rely on that alone; many of the tributes this year would be people who were loved in the Capitol, after all. They needed an edge.

“We're going to really need to play up a sympathetic angle,” Finnick was saying. “They're going to need to think we’re the most tragic people they've ever seen in their lives. I’m thinking we talk about loved ones.”

“Okay,” Athena said. “But I've already talked about my family with the Capitol. It can still work - I mean, it's a safe bet since it's already worked once - but it won't be anything new to them.”

“Right,” Finnick nodded. “That's why I was thinking found family.”

Athena raised her eyebrows, not fully understanding.

“We need to bring in love interests,” he elaborated. “Need to play up the romance, pretend to be madly in love.”

They stared at each other as he said it. _Pretend_ to be madly in love. The elephant in the room was standing right between them, and they refused to acknowledge it. They could not acknowledge it.

“Okay,” Athena said instead. “I mean, I can see how that'll work for you. Keep it vague enough and they'll all be convinced you're talking about them, but will it really have the same impact with me? People aren't invested in my love life the way they are with yours.”

“If you start talking about some nice boy back home who you’re madly in love with, they will be,” Finnick replied. “It'll make a nice, tragic story, and the Capitol will eat it up. Just look at how they reacted to Katniss and Peeta. I mean, what do you think, Mags?”

“It could work,” Mags signed. “We should work on it and practice it first. Think about how you would want to answer questions, what message you want to send. Try to incorporate your own actual experiences. It's more convincing if it's not all fake. How about you both take some time to think of the things you'd want to say, and then we'll do practice interviews. I’ll be Caesar.”

Athena and Finnick both agreed, and so while Mags went to get more tea for them, the two of them were silent, trying to think of the right things to say for the practice interview. She had a fairly good idea of most of what she would say, but whenever her mind drifted to the topic of bringing in a love interest, she was at a loss at what to say. Thoughts of romantic love brought about vivid images of Finnick, the kinds she spent hours drawing and painting, but that was not something she could say out loud, not in this practice interview and especially not in the real one. She looked over at Finnick sitting across from her as subtly as she could; he was staring down intently at a spot on the table, his brow furrowed, looking deep in thought. Athena would’ve done anything to know what he was thinking. She wondered if he was thinking about the things between them that could never be vocalized, finding some sort of way to speak of them out loud. It was also high likely, she knew, that he was not thinking of her at all, that someone or something else was on his mind instead. Either way, she did not know. This was the one topic where she never really knew how to read him; though this was, at least partially, she knew, because they both made it that way, put up that one, relatively weak wall between them because it was for their own good. It was safer for everyone that way.

Finally, she decided to make any discussion of a significant other deeply emotional and romantic, but be vague when it came to who she actually spoke of; it would add a mysterious air to her, which would help build extra interest in her from the Capitol, and then the Capitol citizens could either think excitedly of who this mysterious lover could be or fill in the gaps themselves, decide that the reality was whatever they wanted it to be. She knew many of them found her desirable; they could even make themselves believe she was talking about them, and really, that would help her, too. They would be more likely to want to keep her alive if they deluded themselves into believing that she was in love with them.

Mags returned with refilled mugs of tea, and they began the practice interviews immediately. Mags addressed Athena first, which was unsurprising; the interviews went by female tribute, then male tribute, so this would be how it went for the actual interview, as well.

“So, Athena Maris,” Mags signed, and though she was not speaking, she put on slightly exaggerated mannerisms and facial expressions that were such an accurate impression of Caesar Flickerman that Athena cracked a smile. Mags dropped the act long enough to give Athena a stern look. “Take this seriously.”

“Right,” Athena said sheepishly, “sorry. It was just too spot on.”

“I’m with her on that one,” Finnick said, leaning back in his chair with an amused grin. “You’ve got Caesar down to a T, Mags.”

“I’ve been watching him since he first started out,” Mags signed with a shrug. “It’s hard not to get it right.” And Mags began again as Caesar, signing, “So, Athena Maris, it’s always wonderful to have you here with us, but these are different circumstances, aren’t they? Never thought you’d be in this position again, did you?”

“No, this is definitely outside of what I could've ever imagined,” Athena admitted. “I was excited to come back to the Capitol, as always, but this wasn't quite what I had in mind.”

“These Gamemakers always keep us on our toes.”

“Definitely,” Athena agreed. “If anyone does their job right, it's them.”

“Indeed,” Mags signed. “But I'm sure it's also been an emotional time, as well.”

“Oh, yes, definitely,” Athena said, immediately putting on a sad, puppy dog-esque expression. “I've just been bonding with loved ones as much as I could, spending time together while... while we still have time left...”

She made herself get choked up at the last bit. It rang false even in her own ears, but she knew the Capitol would eat this up, gasping and talking with pity in their voices about how _tragic_ it all was.

“I'm sure, I'm sure,” Mags was signing. “But it's worth noting that you volunteered. Why is that?”

“My fellow victors in District Four and I are so close,” Athena replied. “I wanted to make sure they were safe. No matter what.”

“So brave of you,” Mags signed, and had a look in her eyes that made her think she wasn't just acting anymore. It was gone in a flash, though, and the act was back. “Now, speaking of your loved ones, let's talk about them for a moment. How's your mother and Calypso?”

“Oh, they're both great,” Athena said, perking up and smiling at the mention of them. “Staying strong as always. Calypso's grown so much, she's almost taller than me - not that that's saying much - and she's so beautiful. So is my mother. She's working with the mayor, even though she doesn't really have to work anymore. She wants to keep serving the district and the country, same way I do. It's why I work at the docks still.”

“Such admirable work. And you're here tonight with none other than Finnick Odair. He's gone from your mentor, to a co-mentor, to your district partner. How does that transition feel?”

“It's different for sure. But Finnick and I are such good - ” she hesitated for only a split second before continuing - “friends that it's not so bad. He had my back as my mentor, we looked out for each other as co-mentors, and I know we'll be in this together as tributes. There's no one else I trust more to be with me for this than him.”

She chanced a quick glance at Finnick at that. He had an odd sort of look on his face, but gave a quick, approving nod at her answer.

“You two make a formidable team for sure,” Mags signed. “But it's been so long since you were up here as a tribute. In that time, has anyone else come along since then that we should know about?”

Knowing at once that this was the time to talk about a significant other, she said, coyly, “Well, there is a... _special_ somebody.”

“Do tell, do tell.”

She could feel Finnick’s gaze on her, which for some reason made this harder, her face heating up, but she pushed through it, putting on a love-struck expression as she said, “Oh, you should see him, Caesar. He's the most beautiful man I've ever seen in my life. He's everything I've ever wanted. The thing that breaks me the most about this Quell, about how I actually have to go back in that arena, is the fact that I might not be able to see him ever again after. If I could have anything at all, it'd be to never have to leave him again. I've drawn him so many times I could do it with my eyes closed.”

“Could we see these drawings of such a fine man?”

“Now, Caesar, that would ruin the mystery,” Athena said with a coy smile and a wink.

“Could we at least have a name?”

“Unfortunately, I don't kiss and tell.”

“So mysterious! We'll have to find a way to make an exception to that rule!”

They continued the practice interview, Athena being certain to give answers that would evoke the most amount of sympathy and general interest as possible, until the two minutes were over. After, Mags turned her attentions to Finnick.

“Finnick, you're always such a nice sight to see no matter what the circumstances are,” signed Mags. “What do you make of all this?”

“I can't say I saw it coming, Caesar,” Finnick admitted. “Ten years ago I fought my way through the arena. I never thought I'd be in that same position again.”

“What would you say is different this time?”

“Well, the fact that we're all victors raises the stakes,” Finnick replied. “And last time I went it alone. This time I know I have Athena on my side. We've been a team for the past five years. That's not going to change any time soon.

“So you're in a pretty good place, then?” Mags signed.

“In some ways, maybe,” Finnick admitted. “But this does hurt in a lot of other ways... I've built a life for myself... having to leave it again, maybe forever, isn't easy for me.”

“I see,” Mags signed. “And in that life you built, is there anyone in particular you hate having to leave behind?”

“More than one, but there is one person that came to mind right way,” Finnick was saying, “and as a matter of fact, I'm sort of scared we didn't leave things off the right way, so I'd like to take the time to send them a message - if you don't mind...?”

“Of course, my boy, of course.”

Athena stared at Finnick curiously. She knew he was onto something good, because if there was an actual Capitol audience watching this, he would likely be driving them all crazy without even saying the message at all, but curiosity still burned at her. Exactly what sort of message would he be sending?

It turned out to be a poem. She could understand the logic in reciting a poem, but she would've thought he would use one of the ones he reserved to make Capitol citizens swoon, the ones that were cheesy and dramatic but they all loved, but Finnick showed her those poems, and she had never heard this one. It also seemed genuine, something he had written in full earnest. He spoke of someone he clearly loved a lot, someone who was likely the most beautiful person in the world, from the way he spoke of them. He spoke of hair that felt soft underneath his fingers, of warm, inviting eyes, of soft skin, of hands that fit together with his like they were made to come together. He spoke of laughter that was his favourite kind of music, of a melodic voice that made him feel at peace, of a smile that lit up the room.

In the end, he finished off the message by saying, “My love, you have my heart for all eternity. And if I die in that arena, my last thought will be of your lips. And if I die knowing that I’m loved by you as I love you, then I know I have lived a life worth living.”

Though this interview was only practice, she could vividly picture the adoring screams and swoons and sighs of the Capitol. Athena was left to wish that she didn’t wish that person he spoke of was her. After all, monster that she was, damaged as she was, she was not the sort of person that made people write poems like that. She didn’t want to, but she was already running through a list of people it could be. Nobody from the Capitol, of course, which left someone from District Four. Perhaps Annie? Annie made the most sense, really; she and Finnick were close, and she was certainly beautiful enough to fit the description. Athena felt awful for feeling the way she did when she knew she should support two people who had been through so much misery, when she knew it could never happen anyway, but she couldn't help herself.

The thought distracted her even as Finnick and Mags finished the practice interview and Mags was signing, “Well? Any thoughts on how that went?”

For a moment, there was a long, awkward silence.

“I'd say it went rather well,” Finnick said finally. “Well done with that answer about that _special somebody,_ Athena. Very coy. The whole Capitol wants to know, and they're willing to keep you alive to find out.”

“Mmm, thanks,” she said, slightly stiffly. “Nice touch with that message. Very - uh - romantic. Right up the Capitol’s alley. The whole country's going to wish you were talking about them. And it's just vague enough that it could be anyone.”

For a moment, Finnick said nothing to that. Then he looked over at her and said, “Wait - what - ?”

They both missed Mags look between the two of them and give them an exasperated look. Their attention turned back to her, though, when she signed, “Let's stay focused. We still have a lot more to figure out.”

Athena and Finnick exchanged looks, but were then looking away again quickly, back at Mags, nodding. And so they were back to work again, figuring out the best way to approach the Games so the odds might be more in their favour.

 

*

 

It was hours before Finnick, Athena, and Mags decided to call it a day in terms of figuring out a plan for the Games. They had made considerable progress in that time, and now that they had a plan, it was clear where to go from there. By the time Finnick and Athena were leaving, the sky had darkened considerably to the dark blue of dusk. They were making their way slowly along the path, walking a little closer together than usual because of the cold weather, silence between them.

“I'd say that went well,” Athena said finally, her hands in the pocket of her coat.

“Yeah, me too,” Finnick agreed. “I'm glad Mags agreed. I wonder why she wants to mentor alone, though.”

“That surprised me too,” Athena said, frowning. “I thought for sure she'd want help. She's up to something, I just don't know what.”

“We'll probably find out soon enough,” Finnick pointed out.

“That's true,” Athena conceded, looking thoughtful. She looked over at him and said, “That poem really was beautiful. It'll definitely have the right effect. That person must be really special.”

He supposed she really did mean it, too. She had no idea who the poem was about, utterly unaware that it was about her. He had been hesitant to use it because he thought it would have been a dead giveaway of his feelings about her; he did it in the end because it was the most romantic one he had that he also had memorized (something that was inevitable, because he had spent so long agonizing over it, making sure it was perfect). Evidently, she didn't realize, and Finnick knew, no matter how he felt, that this was probably a good thing. It was, in all likelihood, for the best that Athena did not know how he felt and he didn't know how she felt. It was safer if it was never vocalized directly. Words were dangerous, especially in times like these.

“Thanks,” he said finally. “But that person... that stuff I said... it's all in my head. It's nothing that could ever really happen. Not to me.”

She had an odd sort of look on her face at that, a small smile he couldn't quite read. He told himself that this was probably a good thing.

“I know the feeling.”

They came to stop momentarily on the pathway in the space between their houses; his house was on one side, hers was on the other. The sky bathed everything in dark blue light, making the houses blue, making the two of them blue.

It wasn’t like they had nothing, he reasoned with himself. They could still be friends. And they still had their moments, nights on the train and hours in the cave and touches that always felt so natural to him. They just didn't have anything that went too far, any actions that crossed a line. They didn't have words. Really, it could be worse.

 _People like us,_ he thought, staring down at her, at the blue light that illuminated her, _we don't need words._


	6. V

**V**

 

The thing about knowing that she was going back into the arena was that it left Athena with a lot of clarity. Regardless of how little she wanted to do it or how scared or worried or hurt she was, she knew exactly what she needed to do from now up until the Reaping. From there, due to the fact that she had once been a tribute and was a mentor for five years, she knew more or less what the drill would be during training. And though it was anyone's guess what the actual arena would be like, she knew the essentials of how to survive in there. And she would have Finnick by her side once she was in there. So besides a few variables that were up in the air, the path she needed to take was very clear.

Every other morning, Athena and Finnick would be up early to go on a run throughout the entire district. The headmaster had agreed to letting them use the facilities almost immediately, so every day, they would spend hours using the academy’s training facilities, from workouts they built up speed, endurance, flexibility, balance, and strength, using various weapons, improving survival skills, and more. They alternated every other day between using the facilities before and after school hours. She hated being back at the academy so often, but she got a kick out of passing by Calypso everyday, either on her way in out out from class. Every time they passed each other, they high-fived each other, and it was a part of her routine that she enjoyed. Both Athena and Finnick worked at the docks regularly, and they spent a lot of time with Mags (Finnick had pulled some strings the way he was typically very good at doing, and soon it was confirmed that so long as Mags herself was not the female tribute, she could mentor the two tributes alone) working out the best angle at which to approach the Games, from arena itself to the opening ceremonies and the interview. Alayne sent them the tapes of every living victor outside of District Four, and Athena, Finnick, and Mags spent hours studying each one closely, learning all that they could from it.

District Four felt different after the announcement, especially Victor's Village. The atmosphere was much more tense, more on edge; this was more pronounced by the Penelope's and Talisa’s deaths hanging over their heads. The funeral came around in what felt like no time at all, a little over a month after the announcement and their deaths. Athena had thought she'd be planning the funeral mainly on her own, and while she oversaw and had a hand in everything, everyone in Victor's Village ended up helping in one way or another. Roman, Casper, Noah, and Murphy all helped with the catering. Lillian helped her decide what would go on their graves, particularly the quotation that would be engraved upon them. Mags and Annie helped pick out flowers, along with any other decorations that needed to be picked out. Her mother, Calypso, and Finnick all aided in other organisational things that needed to be done. They all shrugged off her thank you’s, insisting it was nothing, which was partially a good thing, because she found it difficult to properly express her gratitude to them.

Practically all of District Four came to Penelope and Talisa's funeral, which was no surprise and had been planned for ahead of time. The death of a victor was no small thing; the death of two was even bigger, and though Penelope and Talisa had been very closed off from other people, especially anyone not in Victor's Village, after their Games, it seemed everyone wanted to pay their respects. It was the same thing for Siren’s funeral. And just as with Siren’s funeral, Athena knew cameras were filming this event and broadcasting it to the Capitol. As such, on the day of the funeral, Athena found herself sitting in between Finnick and Calypso, dressed in black, in a Justice Building so packed with people that there were still not enough chairs, so that people in the back needed to stand. The burial had been an awful, sordid affair. The caskets were closed, but Athena still felt like they were too exposed, under the gaze or hordes of people who had never given Penelope and Talisa the time of day before this. Still, as the caskets were lowered into the ground, Athena had to fight off both tears and nausea with great difficulty as it hit her that Penelope and Talisa were gone forever.

Mayor Trenton was making her speech, since Penelope and Talisa were important enough to merit a speech from the mayor. It was the same generic sort of speech she gave at Siren's funeral nearly two years ago, with only minor changes. She wondered if the mayor thought anyone would notice. The speech was robbed of any personal connections, most likely because the mayor didn't have any with Penelope and Talisa. Athena hated listening to it, knew it was the sort of thing Penelope and Talisa would have hated too, but she couldn't drown it out.

“...It is a loss from which District Four will never fully recover, but let us be sure that our actions now and in the future bring honour to them,” the mayor was saying. “And with this in mind, let's welcome Athena Maris forward as she says a few words about Penelope and Talisa.”

The mayor stepped aside as Athena stood up. Calypso took her hand briefly and gave it as squeeze. Athena smiled weakly at her as she made her way to the stage, taking her place at the podium. As she stood there, looking out at the assembled group, for a split second she felt like she was twenty-two and facing the death of the tribute she had mentored, and then she was seventeen and facing the death of her father...

She shook the thought off, though, and she was twenty-three again. It was Penelope and Talisa’s funeral now. Her eyes found Finnick. He gave one small, firm nod. The action was subtle, but it grounded her. She took a deep breath and began to speak.

“One of the first times I ever talked to Penelope and Talisa, they both said they liked my hair. Then, before I could say thank you or anything, they practically ran away. I didn't see them for a while after that - in hindsight, I think they were avoiding me. The next time I did, though, they stopped me in the street and said sorry. I didn't understand what they were apologizing for until they told me it was for just running away like that. Talisa said that they were worried I’d get the wrong idea of them, that I’d think they were weird. They didn’t want that. They... they wanted us to be friends.

“And that’s the thing about Penelope and Talisa,” Athena continued. “They didn’t always know what to do or say. They didn’t always know how to get things across to people. But they tried. They always, always tried. Now,” Athena continued, “their trying might look a little different from yours or mine, but it was there, if you knew where to look. In the end, that was what was important.

“But sometimes, when all you do is try and try and try, and especially when life seems to give you nothing in return, when all it does is take, it becomes too much. You’re left drained and empty. And when you’re surrounded by that kind of emptiness... sometimes it consumes you.”

Athena paused for a moment. She was not supposed to talk about how their deaths were a suicide. No one was. The only people who knew were everyone in Victor’s Village, Mayor Trenton, and the Peacekeepers. She was sure Snow and other important government officials in the Capitol did, too. Nobody else knew the details of their death at all - the only thing everyone else had been told was that there had been a horrible, deadly accident. But they weren’t supposed to talk about it. It infuriated her, made tears prickle in her eyes, but she could do nothing about it, so she continued from there, blinking back the tears.

“But Penelope and Talisa were some of the bravest people I know, just because they tried. They were so brave, and they deserved so much. And I just... I just hope that they managed to find some kind of peace in their last moments. I hope they got that much.”

After Athena was done her speech, everyone from Victor’s Village said some words on Penelope and Talisa (Mags had Finnick read out what she had written on a piece of paper). From there, the mayor offered the floor to anyone else who might have wanted to speak, but as no one else there had really known Penelope and Talisa, no one had much to say, so they moved on to the rest of the service. Most people flocked to the food. Athena thought about Penelope’s and Talisa’s caskets lowering to the floor, thought about their bodies spinning around and around and around on the fan, swaying slightly as they did, and found she did not want to eat.

Standing with her mother, Calypso, and Mags, she looked around the courtyard of the Justice Building. She found she couldn’t look anywhere without finding one, two, three Peacekeepers in their white uniforms with guns in their hands. The burial and the ceremony was guarded heavily by Peacekeepers, as Mayor Trenton said ahead of time it would be. She didn't know what commotion they could've possibly thought would happen at a funeral, but she knew better than to question or challenge it.

“That was a beautiful speech,” a voice whispered behind her, and for a split second, she was startled, until she recognized the voice immediately after and turned around, smiling weakly.

“Thanks,” she said to Finnick.

“Penelope and Talisa had the right idea with your hair,” he said. “It is really nice. I have a certain amount of appreciation for it since I know the process that goes into it.”

She gave him a look, but had to smile. Being as close with Finnick for as long as she was meant he had been witness to her doing her hair on several occasions; he had even helped her out once or twice when she had needed an extra set of hands.

“I don't understand where you got the patience from,” Finnick had said once, stretched out on her bed and watching as she set to work on doing her hair carefully in front of the mirror, both of their reflections visible.

Athena shrugged. “If I didn't have the patience I'd probably be bald.”

“You'd make a cute bald person.”

Athena stared at him through the mirror, giving him a look. He just smiled back cheekily at her. She had shaken her head and gone back to work, biting back a smile.

“Your speech was really beautiful, too,” Athena said now. “What you said about always wanting to look after them was really sweet.”

Finnick shrugged the compliment off, saying, “I wish I could’ve done more for them.”

“Yeah,” she said heavily, “me too.”

With help from the cane she had been using more and more often as of late, Mags moved to stand between them, nudging them and pointing ahead. Government officials of District Four were approaching them; she knew already that they would be providing insincere condolences, and they would have to be polite and smile and nod and thank them. That was how it worked. That was how it always worked. This was the nature of the game, of the cage in which they were trapped. There was nothing for it to keep moving.

So Athena looked over at Finnick and Mags, then at her mother and Calypso, stood up straighter, smiled, and kept trying.

 

*

 

Weeks passed by, bringing warmer weather in its wake as the cold winds and snow and harsh conditions disappeared. The tension in District Four, however, showed no sign of dissipating, only increasing with each day. Athena and Finnick trained harder and harder each day for the Quarter Quell, with help from Mags. Athena and Finnick worked at the docks still, and went sailing on _The Morning Light_ when they could. The amount of seafood being exported to District Four was still decreasing subtly. Though they no longer had the winter weather to cover their tracks, spring brought heavy rains and thunderstorms to use as an excuse.

The tension was getting worse and worse, especially since each passing day was another day closer to the Reaping, but it was spring now, and Athena always felt that District Four was defined by its spring months. It was after the Games and the Victory Tour but before the next Reaping, a brief spell of the closest there was to peace before the fear and paranoia and stress began anew. The days lasted decades, filled with sunlight that warmed down to the very bones, endless hours on the water that never felt like enough, the smiles on her family's faces as they danced around the house while soft sunlight filtered through the curtain. The nights saw the turn of centuries, lying down against the rough sand to watch the sky, hiding away in a cave where the world couldn't touch them, the crash of waves finally lulling her to sleep.

She spent as much of it as she could with Finnick. On the beach, in their houses, in that cave hidden away from the world, walking through the streets. Any time they were both available, they were together. Some of Athena's most vivid memories of spring were of the way Finnick looked in the light of the sun, with water clinging to him after emerging from the sea, in the semi darkness with only the light from the moon and the stars to illuminate him, memories that were immortalized in her drawings and paintings. They were together until even their heartbeats were likely in sync, stayed together for longer, and even then, it never felt like enough.

They frequented the cave the most. It was on the edge of the beach, but so far off and out of the way that they were certain nobody else knew about it. The whole world could be burning down, but so long as they were in that cave, they were untouchable. So long as they were in the cave, the only things in the universe that mattered were them. It was a wonder they ever left at all - they had little other choice, though, so they did.

Athena tried desperately to spend much time of her time with her mother and Calypso - while she still could. She wanted to be as close to them as she could before they were forced apart again - this time potentially for good. She hadn’t told them she was going to volunteer; selfish as it was, she couldn’t bear to see the looks on their faces, couldn’t bear to have them try to talk her out of it, partially because she knew they probably could do it, and she couldn’t let her resolve falter. Still, she stayed with them as much as she could. She walked Calypso to and from school every day, made cooking a regular family event, spent hours with them separately and together in between.

On one evening in particular, Marella was reading one of their books out loud, while Athena sketched out the descriptions she was reading and Calypso decided on which colours Athena should use. Athena was in the middle of sketching a sterile white jail cell while Calypso watched, sulking a little, because there were no colours for her to pick out, when they heard shouting and what sounded like sobs. They all froze in their place, Athena tense and ready to spring to her feet, to spring to action -

“THERE'S NOTHING I CAN DO! THERE'S NOTHING ANY OF US CAN FUCKING DO!”

The voice was horribly familiar, giving Athena a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. Roman. Athena leapt to her feet, her sketchbook and pencils falling to the floor. She sprinted out the living room, out of the house, pausing just long enough to stuff shoes into her feet, and was gone within fifteen seconds, out of the house before her mother or Calypso could follow suit. She stopped dead halfway down the path of her house.

Standing in the middle of the long pathway of Victor's Village in the low light of dusk were Casper, Roman, and Annie. Roman and Annie were about ten feet away from each other, while Casper stood a foot or so behind his brother, trying and failing to hold him back. The crying, it was clear, was coming from Annie, sobs wracking her body.

Roman was yelling, “WE’RE ALL FUCKED, ALRIGHT? NONE OF US HAVE ANY GODDAMN CHANCE!”

Though he was shouting and running his hands through his curly hair and gesturing wildly, it was clear this was one of those times were rage was merely a mask, where he let anger take over because anger was easier than pain, anger was easier than fear. Still, this could get even more out of control very fast. Everyone was spilling out of their houses to see the scene rapidly unfolding. She could hear the door of her house opening and closing again and knew at once that Calypso and their mother were on the front porch. For a split second, she made eye contact with Finnick, who was pushing messy bronze hair out of his eyes as he ran out of the house, looking slightly confused as he took in the scene before him. Casper tried to grab hold of his brother again, but Roman shook off his older brother almost with ease, looking around wildly at the spectators.

“EVERYONE KNOWS IT, RIGHT? DON’T YOU?” he was crying out. “IT’S OBVIOUS! THEY’RE JUST GOING TO RUIN US EVEN WORSE THAN THE FIRST TIME AND WE CAN’T DO A FUCKING _THING_. PENELOPE AND TALISA KNEW IT, THAT’S WHY THEY KILLED THEMSELVES!”

Annie let out another sob at the mention of Penelope and Talisa, covering her ears with her hands as though to drown it all out, but he was far too loud. He took a step forward, but Athena was already running to stand between them. She knew Roman would never actually physically harm Annie, but the longer this went on, the worse things got for everyone.

Athena was in front of him before Roman could take another step, throwing her hands out to stop him and saying, “Hey, easy - easy!”

“Get out of my way!” Roman said roughly, trying to shake Athena off. “Out of my way!”

Athena held her ground firmly, though. Within seconds, it seemed, Finnick was by her side, holding Roman back as well.

“Hey, take it easy, Roman,” he said.

“Finnick,” Athena murmured quietly, so only he could hear, “I’ve got this. Trust me,” she added firmly, when he looked uncertain. “I can take care of this. Go to Annie, get her out of here.”

Finnick hesitated for a split second longer, before nodding and running over to Annie, wrapping an arm around her and leading her back to her house

“IT’S THE TRUTH! IT’S JUST THE FUCKING TRUTH!”

“ROMAN!” Athena said, loud enough to drown him out. He stopped shouting, looking down at her like he'd only just really noticed her there. “Trust me, you don't want to do this. Come on, let's just slow down.”

She took his hand and led him over to his house. Casper moved to walk by his brother's side. Athena looked around at the still watching people and called out, “I'd say the show’s over. Let's all move on.”

The others began to disperse, as the group of three reached Roman and Casper’s place, the latter hurrying to unlock the door and let them all inside. Athena led Roman all the way to the sofa, sitting down beside him. She moved her hand to wrap an arm around him, rubbing his shoulder lightly. She felt his muscles relax, felt him take deep breaths that became shakier and shakier with time. Finally, he hung his head, burying it in his hands, curling his fingers in his hair.

“You were yelling at the wrong person,” Athena said calmly, steadily.

“I know,” Roman said, his voice slightly muffled since he was talking through his hands. “Fuck, I know. I feel terrible now. I don’t even know what happened.”

She looked over Roman’s head at Casper, who sat on his other side, giving him a questioning look. He shrugged helplessly, saying, “We went on a walk. On the way back we ran into Annie. We talked for a while; it was all fine until the Quell came up... then Penelope and Talisa... and... well...”

He didn't really need to explain any further; Athena understood at once. People did not talk much about the Quell. They talked about Penelope’s and Talisa’s deaths even less. Bringing it up was certain to bring about strong reactions, to say the least. This encounter served as proof.

“I need to apologize to her,” Roman said, out of nowhere. “I have to apologize to Annie.”

“Yes, you do,” Athena agreed. “Glad you came to that conclusion on your own.”

“I should do it now,” Roman said, removing his hands from his face suddenly. “The sooner the better, right?”

And he was about to stand up, but Athena grabbed him and pulled him back down to his seat, saying, “Easy, there. You should apologize soon, yeah - tomorrow would be best - but not right now. Annie’s pretty shaken up about that whole thing, from the looks of it - Finnick’s looking after her right now, but still. Give her time and space. You need it too right now, I bet.”

“I’m with Athena,” Casper said, placing a hand on Roman’s shoulder. “Take it easy, Roman. You have to set things right with Annie, but how are you going to do that when _you’re_ not alright?”

Roman let out a sigh, admitting defeat. He rubbed his face blearily, wiping away tears in a way she suspected was supposed to be discreet. For his sake, both Athena and Casper pretended not to notice.

“I just can't handle it,” Roman said shaking his head. “All this is happening and I can't... none of us can do anything but watch. I haven't felt this helpless since...”

He didn't finish, but Athena knew he meant since his Games. Athena knew what he meant. The helplessness never really went away, not for Athena, but at least there had been the chance to build a life outside of it, build a life in spite of it. Now even that was being taken away, probably for good, and there wasn't anything they could do.

“Yeah,” Athena said slowly, sighing. “I know what you mean.”

Eventually, Roman seemed more exhausted than anything, and Athena decided to leave the two Zale brothers on their own. They showed her out, and Athena stepped back out into the chilly spring night. The sky had darkened considerably since she had last been out; it would be pitch black all around before long. Quite suddenly, she felt drained. Still, she was going to make her way over to Annie's house when Finnick came out of it, running a hand through his hair. When he saw her, he jogged over to meet her, and she hastened to meet him halfway.

“How’s Annie?” Athena asked as soon as they were face-to-face.

“She was really shaken up, but she’s okay now,” Finnick said. “She’s not angry at Roman or anything, either. I mean, she’s upset, but... she gets it. She gets why he got like that. She felt like it was her fault because she was the one that brought up the Quarter Quell which sort of led to everything that happened next - I talked her out of that, though, she realizes that it’s not her fault now,” he added, at the look on her face, and she felt relieved. “She was pretty tired, so I let her sleep. What about Roman?”

“He realized he made a mistake, lashing out at Annie like that,” Athena said. “He’s going to apologize - he was real eager to do it, so I’m betting it’ll be sooner rather than later. He’s... he’s not doing great, but he was better when I left him... God, Finnick. I already knew he didn’t have great chances of lasting in the arena, but now... seeing him in this state... he’ll get himself killed or burn himself out or - ”

“He won’t go in there,” Finnick said firmly. “Even if my name gets Reaped, I doubt he’ll volunteer. It’s not like he _wants_ it. He’s not a Career anymore - not the way he used to be.”

Athena nodded, knowing he had a point. Still, the thing about Roman was that it was often impossible to know what he was going to do. Besides, knowing that it would be Finnick going in there instead did not bring her much relief.

“You’re shivering,” Finnick said, a small frown on his face and his brow furrowed, and he reached out to rub her arms, the warmth of his hands doing much for the chill she felt.

“I didn’t really stop to grab a sweater or something,” Athena shrugged, looking down at her light tunic. “There were other priorities at the time.”

“I can see that,” he agreed.

“I should probably get back anyway,” Athena said thoughtfully. “Calypso and my mother... they’ll be worried.”

Finnick nodded and moved away from her. Athena found she missed the warmth of him as soon as he was gone. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

Tomorrow would be the same thing as always - or, as close to it as they could get. And it would start with running in the morning.

“Yeah, I’ll see you.”

He hovered there for a split second, before leaning forward and kissing her forehead quickly, and for that moment, she felt warm, she felt light. It went away as soon as he pulled away from her again, but she could almost still feel the place his lips had been moment before, warmer than the rest of her. The feeling remained even as they went their separate ways.

Calypso rushed forward to meet her as soon as Athena walked into the house, saying, “What happened? Are they okay? Roman and Annie, how are they?”

“Fine,” Athena said. “Not great, but... Finnick and I talked to them, they’ll be alright. A couple sleeps and an apology should fix things - well, at least what happened tonight - pretty well.”

Calypso was frowning, still looking concerned, but nodded. “I was just so worried... after Penelope and Talisa I always get scared when something goes wrong...”

Athena’s heart sank. She tried so hard to keep Calypso and her mother away from the Capitol and the ugliest parts of being a victor, but it seemed impossible to keep them from some of the worst of it. And then come this Reaping, she would be leaving them again, perhaps forever... she was failing them...

Athena could not tell her sister that what happened with Penelope and Talisa would not happen again, and she also could not tell her that she had nothing to worry about, so instead she pulled her into a tight hug and said, “It’s okay, it’s okay. Nothing too bad tonight, I swear.”

“Okay,” Calypso said unsteadily, as they pulled away and Athena held her younger sister at arm’s length.

“You should get some sleep, Calypso,” their mother said, appearing in the hallway and leaning against the wall, crossing her arms. “School tomorrow, remember?”

“Yeah,” Athena said, taking her face in her hand gently, “some sleep might do you some good, too.

“Okay,” Calypso said again. “Good night.”

Athena released her, watching as she disappeared upstairs. Athena’s eyes wandered back to her mother.

“Okay?” her mother asked.

Athena nodded, breathing out, “Okay.”

She made her way over to the kitchen, found the liquor cabinet and pulled out the first thing she saw - a bottle of wine. She filled a glass almost to the brim, before turning to her mother, who was now sitting at the dining table.

“Want any?” Athena asked, brandishing the bottle.

Her mother stared at the bottle contemplatively, before shaking her head. “No. I shouldn’t.”

Athena shrugged, said, “Suit yourself,” and placed the bottle back in the cabinet, before moving to sit down at her mother’s left. She downed the glass in one go, considered going back for more, but decided against it. Her mother was watching her with slightly raised eyebrows, concern evident on her face.

“Okay?” she said again.

Athena nodded. “Okay. Just... it’s necessary sometimes.”

There was a look on her mother’s face that was something close to a smile. “Yeah, sometimes.” There was a small pause, before her mother said, “But they really are okay, aren’t they? Annie and Roman?”

Athena shrugged. “That depends on your definition of okay, I suppose, but yeah. Finnick said Annie was really shaken up, but she’s calmer now. And Roman calmed down pretty much as soon as we got back to his place. Once they talk and Roman apologizes it should be okay.”

“And if something like that happens again?” her mother fretted. “Tensions have been so high for so long now... it seems like it doesn’t take much for things... for _people_ to explode like that...”

Athena shrugged again, this time rather helplessly. “I don’t know. But I’ll be there. I’ll do what I can.”

“Seems like you always do.”

“Are you okay?” Athena frowned at the look at her mother’s face; she looked as though she was miles and miles away, and wherever she was troubling her deeply.

She seemed to snap out of it at Athena’s question, shaking her head and smiling bracingly as she said, “Yes. Yes, I’m fine, Thena.”

Athena placed a hand on top of her mother’s, looking at her carefully and saying, “Are you sure?”

Her mother placed another hand on top of her’s, smiling a little wider and saying, “Yes, perfectly sure. Don’t worry.” Athena still wasn’t convinced, but before she could say anything else, her mother was saying, “Look, Thena, you should go to bed, too. Get some sleep. You’ll be up early again tomorrow, I expect.”

Athena got the signal that her mother wanted to be alone at once, so she nodded, bade her goodnight, and got up to leave. She was halfway down the hall when her mother spoke again quite suddenly.

“It’s okay to put yourself first too, sometimes, you know.”

Athena turned to face her mother again. The low light of the dining room illuminated her, and she was looking down at her hands instead of at Athena.

“I - what?”

“You don’t always have to sacrifice yourself for everyone else,” her mother said. “Not even me or your sister. You can put yourself first. You can protect yourself first. You - your life - you're not expendable. You know that, right?”

And Athena did not know how she knew it, but she knew at once that her mother knew she was going to volunteer at the Reaping. And she knew why, she knew it was to protect Mags and Annie and Lillian. Athena’s heart sank, heavier than an anchor, and there was that overwhelming feeling again, that feeling that she was failing them.

Athena did not speak. She could not speak. Instead, she just walked forward until she was standing in front of her mother, leaned down, and kissed the top of her head gently. Her mother took her hand and squeezed it briefly, letting go when Athena pulled away.

“You should go to bed soon, too,” was all Athena said quietly, her voice rather weak. “We all need rest.”

Her mother nodded, and Athena moved away again, trying to breathe through the weight settling in her chest. Her mother did not call her back this time.

When she was upstairs and passing Calypso’s bedroom, the door opened suddenly, revealing Calypso, who leaned against the doorframe. She looked like she hadn't slept at all.

“You should be sleeping,” said Athena.

Calypso didn't address this very true fact. Instead, she looked at her sister with wide, bright eyes and said, “You are going to take care of yourself, right?”

For a split second, Athena was taken aback by the question, before she said, “I - yes. Yeah, of course I am.”

“Okay,” Calypso said, looking a little relieved. “I'm just so worried. I'm so scared. I don't want to lose you.”

Athena realised her sister knew what she was going to do too. Her mother and her sister, they both knew her too well for her to really be able to hide anything from them. And Athena could not stand to look at her and tell her that she wouldn’t, so instead she just smiled weakly and said, “Go to bed, Lypso. School tomorrow. Wouldn’t want to be late.”

Calypso nodded slowly, bade her goodnight, and went back inside her room, closing the door. Athena, her entire body feeling like lead, kept shuffling forward.

 

*

 

Life went on. Roman apologized the next morning with a sheepish, embarrassed smile and a handful of Annie’s favourite flowers. Annie accepted it with a tearful, tight hug and a kiss on his forehead that made Roman smile a little wider, relieved. It did little to relieve any of the tension, though, except perhaps the tension that might’ve existed between Annie and Roman. The fact of the matter was that Roman had been right when he spoke of how the Capitol aimed to ruin them all and there was nothing they could do to stop it, and hearing it spoken out loud only made it harder to cope with it. Athena and Finnick were training harder than ever. Nothing could stop them from working as hard as they were; not even the weather, which was only getting worse, to the extent where heavy rains and storms were an almost daily occurrence.

One day, five days after the incident between Annie and Roman, Athena and Finnick were walking back after another session using the academy’s facilities. They had been training for so long that the sun was starting to set as they walked back to Victor’s Village, talking all the while. They went back to Finnick’s place, showered and changed, and spent a great deal of time eating all they could their hands on until they were back out the door with the intention of going on a walk and potentially going sailing.

They were almost at the beach when the rain started. At first, it was light, so they merely kept moving, but before long rain was pouring upon them buckets and they could hear rumblings of thunder in the distance. This effectively ruled _out The Morning Light_ as an option; with the gathering darkness from the dark storm clouds, it would be all too easy to get lost. Part of them thought that this would not be the worst thing, but they knew they couldn't let it happen. In any case, the storm was worsening with each passing moment, making the conditions far from preferable. In the end, the cave was the closest, so the cave was where they took refuge until the storm let up a little.

They ran the whole way there until they were finally hurrying into the mouth of the cave, soaking wet and their hair and clothes sticking to them. The cave was dry, they noted with relief as they all but collapsed onto the sandy ground, huddled closer together than entirely necessary for warmth. There was another loud clap of thunder, making them look out the mouth of the cave; rain was still pouring, and there were flashes of lightning in the distance.

“We might be here for a while,” Finnick said dryly, pointing out the obvious.

They talked as they sat huddled together against the rough cave wall, struggling to be heard over the sound of the raging storm that persisted. They dried off slowly, and before long, Finnick shifted so that he was stretched out on the ground, his head in her lap. Almost instinctively, her hands went to play with his hair. The storm raged on. District Four was not unfamiliar with stormy weather, but this one was even more intense than usual.

“Yeah, that walk was probably a mistake,” Athena said matter-of-factly.

“If I didn't know better, I'd say you didn't like spending time with me,” Finnick said, putting on an affronted expression.

“You said it, not me,” Athena said with a grin.

“I've never been more insulted in my life!” Finnick protested, but he was smiling. “I thought this quality bonding time meant something to you!”

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Athena said, tugging at his hair rougher than usual, which just made him grin wider. “We could've easily had quality bonding time somewhere that isn't outside during a storm.”

“Where's your sense of adventure, Wise One?” Finnick demanded. “Besides, at least we have shelter.”

“That's true,” she conceded. “Struck by lightning isn't the way I wanna go out.”

“Could be worse,” Finnick shrugged. “At least it's fast. Slow deaths are the worst kinds of deaths.”

“Fair point,” she admitted. “I still feel like getting _electrocuted_ would be pretty shitty. There are better ways to go.”

“You could go say that about a lot of ways to die,” Finnick pointed out. “You really can't be picky about how you go out.” He paused for a moment, before he said, “Besides, at least we all know the worst way to go.”

 _In the arena,_ Athena thought at once. _Dying in the Games is the worst way to go._

One look down at Finnick, who was staring up at her, told her that was exactly what he meant.

They were silent for a while. Finnick continued to lie on the ground with his head on her lap, and Athena continued playing with his hair idly. She looked out at the ocean, at the turbulent waves and the flashes of lightning. She listened to the sounds of the ocean, coupled with the pounding of the rain and the claps of thunder. The sky got even darker, becoming pitch black as night fell. She looked away from the ocean, in the direction where she knew Victor's Village was, and felt troubled.

“My mother and sister are going to be so worried,” Athena said, frowning, tucking strands of still damp hair behind her ear. “I'm always worrying them...”

“Hey,” Finnick said gently, reaching to take her wrist, “they'll be fine once they see you're okay.”

“I guess so,” Athena said, but her brow was furrowed and she still felt troubled in a way she could not shake.

Finnick evidently could sense this, because he looked up at her in concern and said, “Hey, what is it? You can tell me.”

And this was Finnick and they were in the cave, so she knew this was true. She shook her head, saying, “What about when I'm not okay? What if when they don't or can't know anything about how I'm doing? What about when I'm back in the arena? What about if I die in there - ”

“Don't say that,” Finnick said at once, frowning and tensing up. “Athena, don't - ” He sat up again, shifting to sit right beside her - “don't say that, please. You won't - you're going to be fine. I’m going to protect you in there.”

Athena smiled at him weakly, but shook her head. “What are you going to protect me from, exactly? The other tributes? The Gamemakers and everything they're gonna pull? The Capitol?”

“All of it,” he said firmly. “I'm going to keep you safe from all of it, I'm going to do every last thing I can, I swear -”

“You can't promise me something like that - ” Athena began, shaking her head.

“But here I am, anyway,” Finnick said. He took both her hands in his, saying, “They're not going to take you. They're not. Not if I can do _anything_ about it all.”

“Finnick,” Athena said, freeing her hands from his to take his face in her hands, “you should be taking care of yourself. I want you to take care of yourself. Especially this year. You have enough going on as it is.”

This was undeniably true, especially for when they got to the Capitol. Finnick didn't even dare hope that he would be given full leniency in terms of having his body sold and given to different socialites and Capitol officials to focus on being a tribute instead; he predicted he'd have to at least entertain people still, even if he didn't have to take on full-on lovers.

“You think I _want_ to make it out okay if you don't?” Finnick said, getting to his feet. “You think I want this - _any_ of this - ” he gestured wildly around the cave - “if you - if you die in there? None of this - none of this means anything if you die in there! I won’t even - fuck, I wouldn’t be able to stand being alive after that arena knowing that you’re - that you’re gone, that I just let you die, that I couldn’t keep you safe - ”

“Keep me safe from what, exactly, Finnick?” Athena demanded, getting to her feet herself. “From the arena? From the Gamemakers? From the Capitol? From Snow? This isn’t going to stop at the Quarter Quell, Finnick, you know that as well as I do! It’s exactly like what Roman said, they just keep trying to ruin us over and over until they’ve broken us once and for all, and we can’t do a fucking thing about it - there’s no such thing as protection, not really. Even if it’s not another Games like this one, it’ll always be _something_ \- ”

“What do you want me to do, Athena?” Finnick demanded, but he did not seem angry or even frustrated with her; he seemed more desperate than anything. “Tell me what you want me to do. Do you want me to start a rebellion? Burn down the Capitol? Kill Snow and Plutarch and every last person who's ever tried to hurt one of us? Tell me and I'll do it!”

And the thing was, staring into his face while a flash of lightning illuminated it momentarily, Athena knew that he meant it. He would do any of these things and more if he thought he needed to do it for Athena; all she had to do was ask him to do it. And that was how it had always been, hadn’t it? Finnick doing what he could to, going further than he ever had, to protect Athena, right from her Games. The weight of this hit her like a load of bricks, knocking the breath out of her and rendering her speechless, until she finally found her voice again.

“Finnick,” she repeated, a little weakly. “I don’t deserve all this - ”

“Yes, you do!” he insisted fiercely. “Yes, you do, Athena. You deserve all this and more - more than I could ever give you - this is the least I could do for you - ”

“Why?” Athena blurted out, because this had been the one part of the puzzle she had never been able to piece together, the one thing she had never been able to understand. It was something that burned at her, coiled deep within her, this need to _know_. He had chosen her, over and over, done so, so much to protect her, but she could never understand _why_. “Why me? Why do you think I’m worth all this?”

“ _Because_ ,” he burst out, “because you’re so different - you were so new, but you were familiar, like I always knew you. Because you understood, or you tried to. Because you tried at all. Because you’re so kind, you’re so good, you’re so full of this - this light, this warmth - it just radiates from you. Because most days you can make me smile or laugh on days I could barely get myself out of bed. Because after all of this you can still be brave, still be strong, still care so much about the people around you. Because you are the most beautiful person I’ve ever met in my life, in every way.”

There was a loud thunder clap, a flash of lightning, a long, drawn-out silence. Athena was staring at Finnick, just as he was staring at her, stunned at his words, her heart thundering in her chest in a way that mimicked the weather outside. Written all over his face was a desperation, a hopeless sort of longing, and, most of all, a deep resignation that seemed like it had been a long time coming, as though finally surrendering himself fully to the inevitable, to the undeniable.

And after a pause that felt as though it lasted several centuries, he spoke again.

“Because I love you, Athena,” he said at last, sea green eyes bright even in the darkness of the night. “I love you so much. I’m in love with you, Athena, and I have been for so long, and I always will be. I love you so much I feel like that’s all there is sometimes, just that love. And I never thought I could have that - didn’t think I could even _feel_ that after everything, but you just - you come and I feel peace. That's what you do. And I love you.”

There was another pause. Athena’s heart was in her mouth, racing wildly. She was staring at Finnick, stunned into silence, frozen in place, because she had not expected this, she could have never expected this. She had spent so long dismissing the mere idea that Finnick could ever feel this way about her, that he could ever view her as anything as a friend; but then again, that had always been at least partially out of necessity, and she had always had the sneaking suspicion that this was the reality. But after all, this was dangerous, this was the line they were never supposed to cross. And yet he had. And yet there they were.

And he loved her. He _loved_ her. One look at his face made it clear that he meant it. There was no denying it now. There was no pretending. He loved her. And she loved him too - God, she did, sometimes she felt like that was all there was too - and he was standing in front of her, tall and bronze-haired and green-eyed and staring at her with wide eyes as though hanging onto any reaction she made, except she was still frozen, and he was so, so beautiful. She could not hold back anymore. There was no denying it. There was no pretending.

Something close to regret was beginning to settle on his face. “Athena - ?”

And then Athena was all but flinging herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him fiercely. They stumbled back a few steps before Finnick regained his balance, but Athena barely noticed, too caught up in the feeling of the warmth of his lips, of the heat his body always radiated, of that faint scent of mint and the ocean, so much that it all made her head spin, but in a pleasant way, in the best way possible. He kissed her back almost immediately after he regained his balance, holding her tightly to him and kissing her fervently, and this was unlike anything she had ever imagined. When she pictured kissing Finnick Odair, which she did embarrassingly frequently, she always thought he'd be showing off how good he was at it. Not that he wasn't good at it, but he didn't seem to be trying to impress her at all; it was like he was too caught up in her, in committing her mouth to memory, before he lost the chance.

She pictured something soft and romantic, but this was desperate, this was needy, this was six years of pent-up emotions spilling over the surface in a tidal wave. They stumbled backward, still kissing, until Athena felt her back meet the rough wall of the cave, but she barely felt it. While her fingers curled in his bronze-coloured hair, nearly entirely dry, Finnick brought his hands to her waist, bringing her closer to him so that there was no space between them. His hands trailed up her body, setting her very skin on fire, before taking her face in his hands and kissing her harder, as though unwilling to let her go. She pulled away briefly, but he followed her lips with his. She let him kiss her again once, twice, three times, relishing in it, before pulling away again and keeping them apart more firmly, their breathing ragged.

“I love you too,” she whispered, enunciating each word carefully, as though wanting to make sure the message was understood, to ensure that there was no confusion. “I’m in love with you, Finnick Odair. I love you, I love you, I love you.”

Something between disbelief and relief and hopefulness crossed his face then. “You do?”

“I do,” she said, nodding fervently. “Oh, God, I do.”

And then she pulled him to her and kissed him again. He made no protest, kissing her back immediately. His warm hands ran up and down her body, before he wrapped his arms around her tightly. She clutched onto the front of his shirt, bringing him closer to her as they kissed more deeply, practically melding into each other. They stayed there like that, together, until there was a boom of thunder so loud that they both started, pulling away from each other as they flinched. It was only then that Athena remembered the storm that was still raging on outside the sanctuary of the cave. And, admittedly, for a split second, there had been a suffocating fear that they had been caught, that they had been found out by the wrong person and now they had doomed themselves and everyone they cared about. One look at Finnick told Athena he had gone through the same thing, that he had experienced the same flash of paranoia. And in that instant, the weight of what they had just done crashed upon them.

“Finnick -” Athena began slowly, unsure of what she was even going to say.

“It - this still doesn’t have to be dangerous,” Finnick said, a little desperately. “It - it doesn’t have to be. We can make it work - we can find a way around it - I’m sure - I’m sure of it - ”

But they both knew that this was not true, that he was talking himself in circles, because it was the only way he knew to react to the fact that they had just, unequivocally, crossed a line.

“Finnick, there's no undoing this,” Athena said, her brow furrowed, because this was the truth. They had crossed that line they had spent so long trying to simply toe, they had crossed it in a way there was no coming back from, and that was that. There was no denying, no pretending. “We can't act like this didn't happen. There's no taking this back.” She took a deep breath, gathering the courage to add, “And I don’t want to. I don’t... I don’t want to take it back like it’s something wrong.”

“Neither do I,” he said at once, earnest clear in his tone, and she felt relief swell through her.

“In that case,” Athena took a step towards him again, shortening the distance between them, going up on tiptoe to take Finnick’s face in her hands, “We are going to figure this out,” she said slowly, clearly, because even in her hazy mind state, she knew that they could never be public about this. “We are going to make it work.”

“We're going to make it work,” he echoed. “You and me, we'll figure it out. We always do.”

“Yes, we do,” Athena mumbled breathlessly, just as Finnick closed the gap between their lips again and kissed her.

The kiss was gentle at first, slow and languid and soft, before becoming more passionate and almost frantic, grabbing at each other and pulling each other closer, closer, closer still. They were still on borrowed time, especially as far as the Quarter Quell was concerned, and they could not hold back anymore after years of having to do exactly that. Athena’s head was spinning and her heart was pounding so hard she could've sworn Finnick could feel it and warmth filled her from the inside, flared upon on her skin everywhere that Finnick touched her. She could get lost in this, she could stay in this forever if only she could.

“We’ll be careful,” she said breathlessly between kisses, a reminder to herself as much as Finnick.

“Careful,” he repeated, taking her face in his hands. “We’ll be careful - we’ll - fuck,” he cursed under his breath and pulled her closer to him, holding her tightly in his arms.

He kissed her with such enthusiasm that he lifted her off her feet, walking until her back met the cave wall again, gentler, much less clumsy this time. Athena's hands went to his broad shoulders, before playing with the hairs at the back of his neck.

“I love you,” Finnick murmured fervently, pulling away long enough to kiss her forehead, her nose, her cheeks, and then her lips again, repeating those words over and over like a mantra. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

He punctuated the final ‘I love you’ with a much longer kiss, taking her face in his hands, rubbing his thumbs along her cheeks gently. Her hands went back to the front of his shirt, clutching onto it with his fist and sighing into his mouth, while his hands went to her curly, dark hair.

There would be hell to pay for this later, she knew, even through the love that swelled pleasantly inside her until she felt full with it, through the haze that Finnick's mouth on hers brought. At the very least, they would go through hell trying to keep this secret, to protect not only themselves but everyone else they cared about... her mother, Calypso, Annie, Mags... they could all be hurt if Athena and Finnick couldn't keep this under wraps.

But they were approaching what could very well be both their deaths with this Quarter Quell and the rules of Panel seemed to be changing every day since Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark were both crowned the victors of the seventy-fourth Hunger Games and they would have had each other, at least. They would've had this, if only for such little time. And despite they were doing something so forbidden, this was the lightest Athena had felt in a long, long time. And besides, she loved him and he loved her. That was more than enough.

As such, she continued the lingering kiss, before pulling away just long enough to recite a mantra of her own.


	7. VI

**VI**

 

It must have been hours before the storm dissipated into light rain, but it was a while until Athena or Finnick noticed it, far too wrapped up in each other. When they did notice it, they recognized it as a sign to return to the rest of the world. It was Finnick’s place that they both went to after, Finnick’s bed that they fell into before long, mouths soon meeting again and hands touching anywhere they could reach until they were pulling away to gasp for breath. They couldn’t help giggling a little, more than a little giddy, as they looked at each other, collapsing side-by-side onto the bed, tangled together and drifting off to sleep.

When Athena woke up and opened her eyes, she immediately had to squint at the sunlight from the window that hit her eyes. Clearly, the storm had passed fully now. It took her several moments to remember that she was Finnick's bedroom and why, and an uncontrollable smile spread across her face at the memories. She looked up at Finnick to find him still asleep, reaching up to take his face in her hand, just softly enough so that she wouldn't wake him up, tracing the bones of his face delicately with her fingers.

She was lying half on top of him, one of her legs between his and resting her head on his chest. He had an arm wrapped around her waist, keeping her close to him. She could hear his heartbeat like this, the steady, even sound of it. She could feel the rise and fall of his chest from the deep, slow breaths he took, in, then out. When his heart rate quickened just slightly, she knew at once he was awake. Sea green eyes fluttered open, and she shifted her position so that she was hovering over him.

A smile spread across his face as soon as he saw her. “So, that was real?”

“It was,” Athena nodded, smiling back at him; just as quickly, though, it was gone as worry coursed through her. What if he had changed his mind about this? What if, now that the night had passed and he had the opportunity to think a little more rationally, he decided she wasn't worth the trouble this would bring? “Do you regret it?”

“Well,” Finnick said slowly, tracing shapes along her back, “you're in my bed right now, and I don't want you leave any time soon, so you tell me.” He took her face in his hands, saying, “I meant what I said, Athena. Every word of it. I love you. I've been in love with you for years, and I'm always going to feel this way about you. I don't know how much time I've got, but I know that I don't want to spend it away from you. Not if I can help it.”

Relief and something she recognised as joy bubbled through her, smiling as she said, “I love you too. And I want to stay with you too.”

And Finnick was smiling up at her again, a soft, genuine smile with a little relief there. It was a smile she saw very rarely on Finnick. He leaned down and kissed her quickly, once, twice, before lingering on the third kiss. She smiled into the kiss, laughing as he flipped them around so that he was on top of her.

“Wait a minute,” he said abruptly, pulling away suddenly. “When we were doing the practice interview and you were talking about that special somebody... was that about me?”

Athena gave him a look. “You're really talking about _that_ right now?”

“It's a valid question!”

She sighed, but admitted, “I may or may not have gotten some serious inspiration from you.”

He grinned broadly, the sort of dimpled smile that made her heart lift in her chest. “I’m the most beautiful man you've ever seen in your life?”

“You're the worst,” Athena groaned.

“Then why have you drawn me so many times?” Finnick said with a cheeky smile. “By the way, I kind of want to see those drawings.”

“One day,” Athena said, placing her hands on his broad shoulders. “And that poem you recited... was that about me?”

“Of course it was,” Finnick said at once, moving to kiss along her neck. “I was surprised you didn't piece it together sooner, I was worried it was a dead giveaway for how I feel about you.”

“I had no clue,” Athena confessed, “but it seemed so genuine that I knew it couldn't just be something you made up for the Capitol. I tried to think of who it could be about but I wasn't sure... I thought... for a while...”

But she stopped herself, suddenly feeling rather embarrassed about her former theory that the poem was about Annie.

“What?” he asked. “You thought what?” When Athena didn't answer, he moved to kiss along her jaw, murmuring, “Come on, Athena, you know you can tell me.”

She took a deep breath, as though bracing herself, before saying, “I thought... maybe - maybe it was about Annie...”

“Annie?” Finnick repeated, sounding genuinely surprised. “Really?”

“Is it that hard to believe?” Athena said, a little defensively.

“I mean, Annie's amazing, and she is beautiful,” Finnick conceded, “but I don't - it's been you from the very beginning, right from when we met. The idea of it being about anyone else is just... strange to me, I guess.”

“You’re good at talking,” Athena told him matter-of-factly, unable to help the smile on her face.

“It comes with the whole poetry territory,” Finnick shrugging. “Besides, it's not really talk when it's true.”

“I can think of something better than talking,” she said, pulled him to her by the front of his shirt and kissed him again.

He laughed a little into her mouth as he kissed her back, tangling his fingers in her hair, before moving his hands down to grip her hips. Before long, he was pulling away, and before she could miss his mouth too much, he was kissing her all over. He was murmuring something that she realized before long was the poem he recited during the practice interview, kissing her on all the places he mentioned in his poem - her fingers and her palms when he talked about her hands, her eyelids when he talked about her eyes, the top of her head when he talked about her hair. He had so much fervency in his tone and his eyes that she suddenly felt his surprise and confusion when she suggested the poem could’ve been about anybody but her.

“You have my heart,” he whispered, grinning against her skin, “for all eternity. And if I die in that arena,” he moved up her body, his mouth hovering over hers, “my last thought will be of your lips.” He leaned down and kissed her until her head spun. “And if I die knowing that I'm loved by you as I love you,” he moved to kiss along her neck, “then I'll know I've lived a life worth living.” He punctuated the end of the message by kissing her lips again. She kissed him back immediately, running her hands through his hair.

Athena Maris had been kissed before. There was Troy Breck from the academy when she was fifteen. They had dated for about two months, and much of what they did in that time was kiss. Ian the pastry boy had kissed her, too, once when she was seventeen, and then again at eighteen, though neither kiss had really gone anywhere, at her own request. They had both been rather nice kissers, and she didn't necessarily _regret_ kissing either of them. Only, neither of them were anything close to kissing Finnick Odair. Finnick’s kisses made her head spin, filled all her senses, made her feel warm all over in the best way. They felt unfamiliar, which was a given since they had never done it before, yet they felt like coming home for the first time in so long, like this was exactly where she was meant to be. She could hardly get enough of it.

When they finally pulled away from each other, breathless, Finnick fell back onto the bed again, rubbing circles on her hips with his thumbs, a smile stretching slowly across his face as he looked at her. She settled in closer to him, burying her head in his shoulder. She could feel his hands stroking her hair lightly and smiled at the sensation.

“We slept in,” Finnick commented after a while, stifling a yawn. “We'll have to do all our training later today.”

“What time is it?” she asked, her voice slightly muffled.

“Nearly noon.”

She lifted her head again, cursing, “Shit, really? Fuck, my mother and Calypso - they’re probably so worried... I should go call.”

And though the last thing she wanted to do was leave Finnick’s bed, she forced herself to stand, remove the covers, and get to her feet. Finnick sat up straighter, too, stretching and saying, “Tell them I said hi.”

“Aye aye, Captain,” she said, saluting as she hurried downstairs to the telephone receiver, dialling her home phone number.

Her mother picked up after three rings, saying, “Hello?”

“Hi, Mom, it’s me.”

“Athena? Thank God, Calypso and I were so worried, after the storm and everything...” her mother said, sounding relieved. “You were with Finnick, weren’t you?”

“I mean - yes,” Athena said. “We went for a walk, and then we hid out from the storm together, and then I crashed here and slept in. I just got up not too long ago. I’m sorry, Mom.”

“I mean, more warning would certainly be nice,” her mother said sternly. “But I don't mind when you're with Finnick. I know you're okay when you're with Finnick. I just need to know.”

“Right,” Athena said, and nothing else. She did not say anything about what she and Finnick had said or done the previous night or this morning. It dawned on Athena how much she did not like that she would have to keep whatever Athena and Finnick’s relationship could be called now a secret, especially from her mother and sister, but she couldn’t tell her, especially not over the telephone, and even if she could, she had no idea what she would say. The procedure for Troy Breck had been significantly easier than this. There was no protocol for this, and there weren’t all that many people she could go to for tips.

“Are you okay, Athena?” her mother said, after a pause.

“Yeah,” Athena said automatically. “Yeah, I’m fine, Mom.”

“And Finnick?” she asked slowly. “He's okay too?”

“Yeah, he's fine, too,” Athena said. “We’re both okay. How are you and Calypso?”

“We’re both fine, too,” her mother said. “Calypso’s gone out with Sirena. I'm going to get groceries soon.”

“I can do it,” Athena said. “I'm going to be out soon working out anyway, I can do it on my way back.”

“Oh, thank you, Athena,” her mother said, letting out a sigh. “I appreciate it.”

“Least I can do,” Athena shrugged, stifling a yawn and stretching. “Just let me know what you need.”

Athena grabbed pen and a scrap piece of paper, scribbling down the list of groceries that her mother read out for her. After, she and her mother bade each other goodbye and hung up. Athena showered, brushed her teeth, and dressed for the day, as Finnick had already done, and went back downstairs to find him already making breakfast for the both of them.

“Everything okay?” he asked, looking over as she walked in and leaned against the doorway.

“Yeah, she and Calypso are fine,” Athena replied. “They don't mind it, me being with you so much. They just... like knowing, and last night we were a little preoccupied.”

“That's one way of putting it,” Finnick said with a grin that was half amused and half giddy, winking at her, and Athena couldn't help the smile that crossed her face then.

“You need help with anything?” she asked.

“Keep standing there and looking cute, that's more than helpful for me,” Finnick said lightly.

Athena raised her eyebrows, but she was smiling. “Smooth.”

“It's what I do best,” Finnick said with a smirk, walking over to give her a lingering kiss, placing his hands on her hips. She kissed him back at once happily, her hands on his chest.

“I've noticed,” she finally said, a little breathlessly.

“I bet you have,” Finnick said suggestively, a playful look on his face. “I always knew you could never resist it.”

“I'd say I always did a pretty good job of it,” Athena said. “Especially with you trying to make it hard for me at first.”

His eyes lit up. “So it was hard for you!”

Athena’s face fell, realising her mistake far too late. “That - that's not what I said - ”

“Yes, it was!” Finnick said. “I knew it - I knew I was having an effect on you!”

“I - you're burning the eggs,” Athena finally said, moving around him in an attempt to escape the conversation.

She should've known it wouldn't be so easy.

“What did it for you, then?” he asked gleefully, following her as she walked over to the stove. “The lack of personal space? The lack of clothes? The smirk? The winks? The sexual innuendoes?”

She turned back to give him an exasperated look while turning the eggs over. He just grinned cheekily back at her. They joked about the exaggerated, often ridiculous personas they put on for the Capitol all the time. Sometimes, that was all that kept them sane. So, finally, as she looked at him, she decided to indulge him.

“The voice,” she said, and a delighted look spread across his face.

“So you like the voice?” Finnick said, lowering his voice to his perfected low, sultry purr, moving to stand closer to her. “Like when I talk to you like this?”

“I will kick your ass, Odair,” Athena groaned, putting her head in her hand, mainly because she could not deny that he was having an effect on her.

He laughed at that. “You'd never.”

“In training today I might,” she said stubbornly, poking him in the chest.

“Okay, Wise One,” Finnick said with a smirk, and leaned in to kiss her again. She stopped pretending to be angry almost shamefully fast, going up on tiptoe to kiss him back, wrapping her arms around his neck, her fingers playing with the hair at the back of his neck.

He kissed her forehead quickly when they pulled away, slightly breathless, and she smiled at the feeling of his lips pressed against her for that brief moment, but her mind drifted back to her conversation her mother, how she could not tell her much of anything, and said, quite suddenly, “We need to - we need to figure ourselves out. You know, now that we - that we've -”

Athena didn't finish, but Finnick understood regardless. “We can't tell anyone, obviously. Even saying it out loud to anyone at all could be dangerous. But some people here might figure it out on their own.”

“But if they can figure it out, who's to say the Capitol won't too?” Athena said, biting her lip. “That Snow won't?”

“They won't,” Finnick said firmly, with confidence that surprised her. “We won't let them. It's like we said last night, we'll be careful. We'll act normal in public. Like nothing ever happened.” Athena nodded, but she still felt disturbed. Finnick picked up on it quickly. “What is it, Thena?”

“It’s nothing,” Athena said at once. “Just - I don't like it, having to hide it from my mother or my sister. Having to act like we're some deep, dark secret. Like this is something wrong. This is the most right I've felt in a long time.”

“Me too,” he confessed. “But it's what we have to do. And maybe - maybe one day -”

But he stopped himself abruptly, and Athena knew why. There was no point in talking of futures that would probably never happen for them. Athena looked away from him, looking for a change in subject. She found it on the stove.

“Food’s ready.”

 

*

 

One breakfast, a run through the district, and a training session later (it was the weekend, and the headmaster had given them both a set of keys, meaning they could just walk right in), and Athena and Finnick were walking to the marketplace. Athena brought money with her to pick up the groceries that her mother needed, and Finnick checked with Mags if she needed anything (Mags’ legs were worse than ever, so that she used a cane to walk at all times, and she tended to need help when running errands), and upon receiving a list from her, were on their way to the markets. It was a bright day, with the sun shining, but thick grey clouds were beginning to form here and there. As they approached the square, they were both a little uneasy about how quiet everything seemed; the marketplace was always busy and bustling and loud, a certain amount of noise was always associated with the place. Athena didn't think she'd ever experienced silence at the marketplace before. It made sense why when they reached the markets, though.

A wide circle of people had formed around something in the middle of the square. As Athena and Finnick made their way closer to the front of the circle, they could see why. A young man, no older than thirty, was shirtless and shaking and chained to one of the stands. A Peacekeeper was nearby him, holding a whip in his hands, facing the watchful crowd.

“Pay attention!” the Peacekeeper yelled roughly. “This is what happens when you want to cause problems!”

With that, he turned around and struck the man forcefully in his exposed back with the whip. The man yelled in pain, the crowd all seemed to gasp at once, and Athena couldn't help but flinch a little. Before the man could recover, the Peacekeeper struck him again, then again, then again and again and again. Before long, wounds were beginning to form on his back, blood spilling out from them. Everyone seemed so horrified by the scene unfolding in front of them that they were silenced and frozen in place. Peacekeepers had never been kind to District Four citizens, especially lately, but this was the first time they had ever beaten someone publicly. And it was then that it truly hit Athena how everything was spiraling out of control all throughout the district. Whatever peace (regardless of whether it was a false peace, a peace based off suppression and silencing) they had been living in months before, it truly was dead and gone. There was nothing but chaos now.

Athena shifted in place, but she felt Finnick take her hand from beside her. She tore her eyes from the awful scene in front of her to look at him instead. He shook his head subtly. He didn't want for her to act, but if someone didn't act soon, the man could very well die. He didn't look like he could take much more. Someone had to do something to help him and soon. Before Athena could think of a solution, the Peacekeeper brought down the whip so that the man let out a shout of pain that was also a sob and slumped against the wooden stand, horribly limp.

At that moment, the silent square echoed with footsteps as someone ran out of the crowd, heading straight for the man, followed immediately by someone else. Athena’s heart dropped to the region of her stomach; it was Calypso, followed by Sirena Rivers. They ran until they were at the man's side, examining him closely.

“Get back!” the Peacekeeper said roughly. “Get back right now!”

“You’ll kill him if you keep going!” Calypso said, staring up at the Peacekeeper while Sirena tried to shake the man into consciousness again. “Haven’t you proved your point? He wasn’t hurting anyone!”

“That’s not up to you to decide,” the Peacekeeper snarled. “Move or you’ll face the consequences.”

“I’m not leaving him,” Calypso said resolutely.

“Neither am I,” Sirena said.

The Peacekeeper’s hand that held the whip twitched, and Athena was already moving, detaching herself from Finnick’s grip on her. A moment later, she could hear Finnick’s footsteps joining hers. She sprinted until she stood between Calypso and Sirena and the Peacekeepers, her hands already up.

“You think I won’t take you down too?” the Peacekeeper said, raising his whip.

“Hey, hey, hey, either you don’t know who you’re talking to or you’re not thinking straight,” said Finnick, who was at her side seconds after she came to a stop. “Either way, let me help you out. This,” he gestured to Athena briefly, before putting his hands up, “is Athena Maris. Victor the sixty-ninth Hunger Games, a darling of the Capitol. That,” he jerked his head in Calypso’s direction, “is her sister, Calypso, who’s also pretty loved in the Capitol. And I’m Finnick Odair, victor of the sixty-fifth Hunger Games. Ask anyone in the Capitol and they’ll all tell you how much they love me there. Now the reason that’s important to you is because none of us are going to move the way you want us to,” Finnick continued explaining, rather calmly. “I know for a fact that if you want to get to any of them, you’ll have to take me down first.” he moved to stand in front of Athena as he said it. “And I know Athena enough to know she’ll make you kill her three times over before she lets anyone hurt her sister, which means - ”

“Which means you’ll have two dead victors on your hands if you want to touch my sister, her friend, or this man,” Athena said, catching onto what Finnick was doing. “You think President Snow or anyone in the Capitol is going to like that?”

“President Snow is sending you victors off to your death in the Quarter Quell,” the Peacekeeper snarled.

“Maybe,” Athena conceded, “but that means he wants us to die at the right time, in the right way. In the arena, fighting to represent our district.”

“Right,” Finnick said, nodding at Athena in acknowledgement, “not at the hands of a Peacekeeper with a temper problem. Besides, everyone in the Capitol will be heartbroken, and Snow’s going to have to do _something_ to make them feel better. You think the first person he looks at to punish won’t be the person who caused all that heartbreak in the first place?” the Peacekeeper was silent. Finnick continued. “The choice is all yours, of course. Nobody can tell you what to do. But for your own sake, I’d think about what you do now really carefully.”

For a moment, the Peacekeeper said or did nothing, before finally lowering their whip slowly. Then they approached Finnick until they were right in front of him and whispered menacingly, “You get off lucky this time. But if I ever see any of you causing any trouble again, you won’t like what happens to you. I don’t give a _damn_ about who you are, understand, pretty boy?”

“Got it,” Finnick said, saluting him.

The Peacekeeper turned to look at the still watching crowd of people, shouting at them to clear the area, and everyone rushed to obey. The Peacekeeper looked at Calypso and Sirena, still at either side of the limp man, and said in disgust, “Get him out of my sight.”

The Peacekeeper turned and walked away quickly, anger in their movements. Athena and Finnick rushed to release the man from his chains, and were about to help Calypso and Sirena to lift him up, but suddenly a group of people were joining them - Hudson among them - and grabbing onto the man, lifting him up and supporting him.

“We can help - ” Athena began.

“We’ve got this,” Hudson said firmly, locking eyes with her. “We’ll take him to the hospital. You lot just get out of here and fast.”

Athena and Finnick exchanged uneasy looks, before nodding at Hudson. Athena and Finnick watched as the group carried the man until they were out of sight, before turning back to Calypso and Sirena to see if they were okay. The two of them were now standing close together, their hands locked together and Calypso’s head on Sirena’s shoulder. They noticed Athena and Finnick looking at them and moved away from each other again, and the two exchanged looks but said nothing of it.

“Let’s get out of here,” was all Athena said with a sigh, moving to stand behind them and placing a hand on each of their shoulders, pushing them forward gently. The group walked back to Victor’s Village together, taking the path that was a little longer but much more deserted. They came to a stop once they crossed the wrought iron gates of Victor’s Village.

“Are you two okay?” Athena asked, speaking for the first time since they left the markets, looking at Calypso and Sirena with concern.

“Fine,” Sirena said. “Nothing happened to us, did it? I’m just worried about that poor man...”

“What even happened?” Finnick asked.

“Sirena and I were at the markets to get something to eat,” Calypso said, a little shaken. “That man wasn’t really watching where he was going, so he bumped into the Peacekeeper, which made them mad to start with, but then he went to pick up a pen, which the Peacekeeper apparently thought was knife, so he took it as a threat against him.”

“That’s what started all of that?” Athena demanded, but at the same time, it did make sense; Peacekeepers these days were much more jumpy as tensions rose in the district. It almost seemed like they were looking for any excuse to accuse members of the district of rebellion.

“I’m not even surprised,” Finnick said, though he had a hard look on his face. “Considering everything... I’m glad you’re both okay.”

“And speaking of which,” Athena said, looking at Calypso and Sirena sternly, “what you both did was brave, but it was also reckless as all _hell_. That Peacekeeper could’ve done anything to you.”

“Were we supposed to just let him hurt that man?” Calypso demanded. “He would’ve killed him! And you came charging in too, didn’t you?”

Athena said nothing to that, knowing she was right, and she would’ve come rushing forward to help the man herself if Finnick hadn’t stopped her, prompting her to try and think of a better solution. “Still. You need to be smarter about this. You can’t tell _me_ to be careful and pull shit like that, Lypso.”

“We did what we had to,” Calypso said stubbornly, though she looked troubled still. “I’m just worried about that man... I don’t even know his name...”

“They’ll take care of him at the hospital,” Athena said, trying to convince herself as much as Calypso and Sirena. “I’ll call Hudson later and ask, though.”

“I should - uh - I should go see Mags,” Finnick said, clearing his throat. “Let her know what happened, and also why we didn’t bring back any of what she wanted.”

It was then that Athena remembered with a jolt why they had even been at the markets. And good thing they were, too; the thought of what would happened to that man, to Calypso and to Sirena if Athena and Finnick hadn’t been there to intervene sent horrible shivers down her spine.

“Okay,” Athena said. “Thank you for - for everything.”

“Don't mention it,” he said at once. “I'd do it all again.”

She smiled softly at him, and she was going to lean up to kiss him quickly, but then she remembered that they were in public again and thought better of it, and settled instead for patting him on the arm quickly. Afterwards, they parted ways; Finnick towards Mags’ place, and Athena, Calypso, and Sirena to the Maris household. It seemed a silent agreement had been made that Sirena would stay with them for a time, until she felt okay to return to her own home. Once they were inside, Calypso and Sirena sat close together on the sofa, almost huddled together, while Athena explained the situation to her mother in the kitchen.

“They could’ve gotten killed,” her mother said, biting her lip and looking at the two teenagers through the doorway.

“I know,” Athena said, letting out a breath. “And they do, too. But at the same time... you should’ve seen that man. He was bleeding so bad and then he just... went limp. You’d understand it a little more if you were there.”

Her mother let out a sigh, shaking her head and running a hand through her hair. “I guess I should just be glad they’re okay.” She turned to face Calypso and Sirena, calling out, “I suppose you’ll be staying with us for dinner?”

Sirena looked over at Calypso, who nodded and smiled encouragingly, before turning back to her mother and saying, “Yeah, I guess so.”

They all ate together, though none of them ate much. After, Athena called Hudson, who confirmed that the man was severely injured and in deep pain but would survive, and Sirena decided she ought to go home not long after that. Calypso and Sirena said goodbye alone in the hallway, while Athena and her mother stayed behind in sitting room. They were talking quietly, so Athena didn't hear any of what they were saying, but when Athena went into the hallway to hand Sirena the cardigan she had forgotten, she saw the two of them holding hands again.

Something about the way the two of them were standing together confirmed that Sirena was much more than Calypso's best friend. She had been waiting for this sort of thing to happen to Calypso, expecting it to happen at any point, and really, Athena thought, she could not be surprised that it was Sirena; there was no one Calypso spent more time with, no one she spoke of to Athena and their mother more... and Athena had always liked Sirena, always trusted her with Calypso. Really, if it had to be anyone, Athena was glad it was Sirena. Athena's heart broke for them, though, the fact that they had to resort to stolen, secret moments out of fear of what a world that had proved itself to be ruthless would do.

When they stared at her, a little uncertainly, all she did was smile and hand her the cardigan, saying, “You forgot this.”

Sirena took it, smiling sheepishly and saying, “Yeah, thanks.” Athena just nodded at her. Sirena turned to Calypso and said, “I'll see you in school tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” Calypso nodded, “see you.”

When Sirena was gone and the door was shut behind her, Calypso turned to look at her older sister and said, “Athena, I - ”

Except it seemed awfully like Calypso was going to explain herself, and Athena did not want to Calypso to think that she had to explain herself, so Athena said, “You know, I've always liked Sirena. You chose well.” Calypso smiled, relief lighting up her face slightly. Athena smiled back a little, but said, “Mom said Lillian left new books for us to read and review for her, they're in the living room. Wanna come check it out?”

Calypso nodded. Athena reached out to her, and together, arms around each other, the two sisters walked away from the door and towards the sitting room.

 

*

 

Hours later, Athena was retreating to her bedroom for the night. She passed by Calypso's room, and though she had claimed to have gone to bed long ago, as she passed by the door, Calypso’s voice called out, “Athena?”

Athena paused, backtracked so that she was in front of the door again, and said, “Yeah?”

“Can you come in?”

Calypso was sitting straight up in bed when Athena walked in, leaning against the headboard. She looked like she hadn't slept at all and really, that did not surprise Athena.

“Trouble sleeping?” Athena asked in a low voice, leaning against the doorframe and crossing her arms.

“Something like that,” said Calypso, voice as quiet as hers, staring down at her legs, before looking back up at her hesitantly, saying, “Do you mind sitting and talking with me for a little? It might help.”

Athena paused for only a split second, before walking over to her bedside and saying, “Well, move over. Make room for your big sister.”

Calyspo smiled and immediately obliged, but said, “Not that much bigger,” and as Athena sat next to her, stretching her legs out and leaning against the headboard, added, “See! I'm almost your size.”

“Don't remind me,” Athena groaned, and Calypso laughed. “I should start wearing those huge heels they wear in the Capitol all the time.”

“You'd still barely touch Finnick's height,” Calypso grinned.

“He is annoyingly tall, isn't he?” Athena conceded.

“I'm going to tell him you said that.”

“Go for it,” Athena said lazily, stretching out her legs. “I probably have already at some point.”

Calypso laughed, and they fell silent for a moment. Athena was tracing a scar she got on her arm after an accident at the docks the other day. It wouldn't be there for long. When she arrived at the Capitol in a few months, they would have some way to remove it or at least cover it up. After all, she needed to be flawless, without any imperfections for them...

“What do you miss most?” Calypso asked suddenly. “When you and Finnick have to leave?”

Athena didn't even have to think about it. “I miss Mom. And you, for some reason,” she added, and laughed at the way Calypso shoved her. “I miss Mags and Annie and Roman and everyone here. I miss Hudson, and the other sailors and fishermen. I miss the ocean. We’re always around it, so we just sort of take advantage of it being there, but when it’s gone I always miss it so much. Being away makes me realize how much it’s apart of everything in my life. I mean, I’m always on the water, either on _The Adventurer_ or with Finnick, I see it all the time, but also... you can hear the sound of the waves, you can smell it, you can feel it, the sea spray on you... it’s just part of everything. It's a part of you, almost. It feels wrong when it's not around anymore.”

“I can understand that,” Calypso said slowly, thoughtfully. “I mean, I don't like being on the water the way you do, but I can't imagine being away from it.”

“And everything feels different, especially in the Capitol,” Athena continued. “I mean, the food's great, but everything is so... manufactured,” she said carefully. “I don't know. It's hard to understand it if you didn't see it for yourself.”

Athena didn't say what she was thinking, that she was glad that Calypso didn't have to see the Capitol for herself, if only because it kept her away from the horrors of the city and its citizens.

“You know, Athena,” Calypso said, still in a low voice, “sometimes me and Mom are kind of jealous of you.”

Athena looked over at Calypso in surprise. “Really? Why?”

“I mean,” Calypso said, “I know it's not something really easy and fun, I know there's a lot more to all of this, but still... you get to see the whole country. Me and Mom have never even left the district.”

Athena was quiet for a moment. Admittedly, she had never thought about their situation like this; Calypso and their mother trapped in District Four while Athena was free to explore the rest of Panem. She had thought about it in nearly every way but that. And when she thought about it now, she could see why they sometimes felt that way. Calypso and their mother both loved District Four, but that could have very well been because it was all they knew. While Athena wanted nothing more than to be able to stay and live her life in peace in Four, she had had moments when she was younger where she had wanted nothing more than to see what was beyond the home she loved so much. Her chest felt rather heavy suddenly; she wanted her mother and sister to be able to explore all of Panem and beyond, but they couldn't, not unless Calypso went through all that Athena had ever since her Reaping, and Athena couldn't bear the thought of that either. After all, even if she got to leave the district and travel, she always felt trapped, caged, unable to breathe.

“It's not very glamorous,” Athena said at last, “and I don't exactly get free reign, but I understand what you mean. I guess the grass is always greener on the other side and all that, since I always wish I could stay behind. It always feels like... like just when I'm getting used to regular life, I have to go again and it just shakes everything up rougher than before.”

“Everything probably always feels different when you come back,” Calypso said quietly, looking far away. “Brand new eyes every time...”

“Some things are the same,” Athena said. “The ocean stays the same. Hudson stays the same. Victor's Village pretty much stays the same. I mean, things change here, people change, but there's pretty much always some kind of routine to it. A lot of us need that routine. Sirena stays the same.”

Athena nudged Calypso at that, laughing at the indignant look on her younger sister’s face and putting an arm around her.

“She changes a little,” Calypso grumbled.

“Eh, but she's always around,” Athena shrugged. “I think that's a good thing, Calypso,” Athena added, at the uncertain look on her face. “I really do like her. I trust her with you, which I can't say about a lot of people. I feel better knowing you have her, especially when I can't be there.”

Calypso was quiet for a moment, apparently processing this, before saying, “It's not like I didn't want to tell you, Athena. I don't like not telling you things. I always want to tell you everything, especially when it comes to her, but I - this time - it's too -”

“Hey,” Athena said, pulling Calypso a little closer against her, “I get it. I get why you couldn't say anything. I'm not upset with you or anything. I just want you to be okay and happy.”

Calypso just nodded, letting out a breath and dropping her head onto Athena's shoulder.

“Love you, Thena,” she said, and Athena smiled at the nickname; it had been Calypso who was the first to call her it. When Calypso was still learning how to talk, apparently saying her name in its entirety was too much trouble, so she took to shortening it by ignoring the 'A’ and somehow the nickname had spread and stuck. Calypso was sometimes rather embarrassed by the fact that everyone used a nickname that was the result of her not being able to pronounce Athena's name when she was younger, but even she couldn't manage to stop using it.

“Love you too, Lypso,” Athena said, making a point of using the nickname, which came about as a retort to the way Calypso shortened Athena's name.

They were silent for a while, sitting closer together, before Athena spoke again.

“Does Mom know?”

Calypso didn't have to ask what she meant.

“Neither of us have actually told anyone,” Calypso said. “It feels too dangerous. But she probably suspects it. It's really hard to keep secrets in this family.”

Athena laughed at that. “Sounds about right, yeah. And there's no one else?”

“Finnick might suspect something after today - the two of you and Mags are scary good at reading people - but other than that, no one else,” Calypso said confidently. “That much I'm sure of.”

Athena nodded. “You two are safe with me.”

“I figured as much,” Calypso said, letting out a stifled yawn. “It was never _you_ I was worried about.”

Athena didn’t have to ask what she meant by that. She only nodded. They were silent again for a time. Calypso’s breathing was slowing, getting steadier and more even. She would fall asleep before long, Athena knew.

“Athena?”

“Yeah?”

“You know how you said you feel better about leaving us knowing that I have Sirena?” Calypso said slowly, and Athena nodded. “That's how I feel about you with Finnick. The one thing that makes me feel kind of okay about you leaving all the time is that Finnick is with you. He'd never let something bad happen to you, not if he can help it.”

“Well,” Athena said slowly, “I’m glad you trust him as much as I do. It’s always made me so happy that you all get along so well.”

“Yeah,” Calypso said, hesitated, then said, “So... if in this Quarter Quell, or - or any time in the future, really - you ever get into any trouble... at least I’ll know that you have him to look after you.”

Athena looked over at Calypso in surprise at the comment, but really, why should she be surprised? Her mother knew that she was going to volunteer, and it really only made sense that Calypso had figured it out, too. Calypso and Marella Maris had always been good at _knowing_ things, without ever being told. Calypso had not been wrong; it really was hard to keep secrets in the Maris family.

“And,” Calypso added suddenly, “just so you know... I get it if you - both of you - don’t tell me everything either. But I see you... and I understand. I just want you to be okay and happy, too. I know Mom does, too.”

And Athena couldn’t even bring herself to be surprised at this. Finnick had always been the exception to every rule, they had always been close, perhaps too close for people pretending to only be friends, and her mother and Calypso were two of the people they hid from the least. It only made sense that they noticed. It was hard to keep secrets in the Maris family, especially secrets like these, and Calypso and Marella Maris had always been good at knowing things, without ever needing to be told. Of course this would not be an exception.

In the end, Athena only smiled faintly and said, “Thank you, Lypso.”

Calypso shrugged, leaning further back against the headboard and yawning as she said, “No need to thank me. You’re my sister.”

Calypso fell asleep not long after that, and Athena was extremely careful as she extracted herself from her bed, laid Calypso more fully onto the bed, and tiptoed out of the room. She could have gotten hurt today, she could get hurt on any day, but today she was okay. She was more at risk than ever, but she looked peaceful as she was sleeping, dark eyes closed and curling up into a ball, and for the time being, that would be enough for Athena.


	8. VII

**VII**

 

Finnick Odair didn't really know what he had thought would happen if he ever kissed Athena Maris. He made himself associate the occurrence with disastrous consequences - bombs exploding, tsunamis, droughts, death (not that last one was too much of a stretch) - in a vain attempt to resist the temptation. But it had been several weeks since they had first kissed (which they had done again, several times, since then) and admitted their true feelings for each other, and none of those things had happened yet.

Not to say things weren’t different now, because they were. The main difference, and the best one at all, was that even though he could still not be open about how he felt about Athena, at least _she_ knew now. And what was more, she felt the same way. Not only did he not have to hide from her anymore, but he now had the knowledge that she felt about him the same way he did about her. He could kiss her over and over (as long as they were alone and in private) and could tell her that he loved her over and over (as long as they were alone and in private and used sign language when words felt too dangerous).

Of course, to consider the beauty of this forced him to consider the negatives that came attached to it. They still could not be open about their feelings, and had to actively hide it, keep it in the shadows and in the quiet like something wrong. There was the ever present fear that they would be found out by the wrong people, especially once they were back in the Capitol. They now had to second guess every touch, every word spoken to the other, every shared glance when they were public, fearful that even a smile a little too wide or look that lasted a little too long might give them away.

But now that he had admitted his feelings to her and been able to be with her in any capacity that he could, he couldn't pretend he wouldn't do it all again if given half a chance. He could not pretend that the fear and the risk of it all was not worth being able to kiss her and hold her close. He thought originally that he just needed to kiss her once. All he needed was to get one kiss off of her and then he would be fine, he could move on, make peace with never being able to be with her. The opposite was true, however. Now that he had done it, all he wanted was to kiss her. He wanted to kiss her until he knew nothing but her mouth, wanted to taste her even when she was far away, wanted to tear down everything that tried to stand between them. Out of all the mouths his own had been, all the people Snow forced him to kiss, she was the only one that made him feel loved, made him feel safe in the face of the danger all around him, made him want to keep going. And he did not want to ever give up.

The only ones that did notice anything, though, were the ones that knew them best, the ones Finnick suspected they never could've hid it from in the first place. Mags only needed to see Finnick the day after when he asked if she needed anything from the markets, only needed to hear him say her name to realize, as though there was some difference in the way the name left his lips. She looked at him with an expression that was happy and supportive and sad and grief-stricken and worried and afraid all at once, but when he asked her why she was staring at him like that, she just signed (she still hadn't spoken since before the Quarter Quell announcement), “Nothing you don't already know.”

Athena told him that her mother and sister already knew about them without her saying anything, and he wasn't very surprised by this. He could see that they knew in the looks they gave the two of them, the way they spoke to them, the way they always turned to him first if they couldn't reach Athena directly. Finnick had thought they'd be angry at him, because he imagined loving him was not an easy thing, was not a safe thing, not when the Capitol was involved. He figured they must resent or even hate him because she chose him and had no intention of looking back, instead of being with some nice, regular, unburdened man that she didn't have to hide with and could be with him openly and could marry and have kids with one day, if she wanted... after all, it was at least part of the reason he was confident he didn't deserve Athena. But they remained warm and welcoming and kind to him, and the fact that Athena's family accepted him and their relationship meant more to him than he had the words to express. But they never said anything either, just looked at him in understanding and smiled knowingly and carried onward. Athena did the same, so Finnick did too.

Annie was the only one to actually say anything. She, Finnick, Athena, and Mags were all together at Mags’ place. Finnick and Mags were playing cards and wanted Athena and Annie to join, but Athena insisted on sketching the three of them first (Finnick had finally convinced her to show him the drawings and paintings she had done of him, and he was so stunned by how beautiful she had drawn him, how beautiful she apparently saw him as, that he forgot to tease her) and Annie wanted to run through her newest list of things she wasn't sure were real or hallucination or dream or nightmare before she did anything else. Annie often had difficulty differentiating between what was reality and what was in her head, and this had only gotten worse over time. When she told Finnick, Athena, and Mags about this, the solution was rather simple; if she wasn't sure, just ask. Since then, she had taken to making a list of everything she was uncertain about and reading it off to them.

That day, as she was going through the list, she said, “There's something different about Athena and Finnick. There's been some sort of change between them. It's something good, though. They're closer now.”

Neither Finnick nor Athena said anything. They looked at each other, then looked away, utterly silent, unable to speak. Even Mags made no gestures in sign language. Still, Annie looked between the three of them, and from the looks of it, already found her answer. She seemed to know at once what kind of change had happened, too. She picked up her pen again, and from where they were sitting, Finnick could see her tick off the box “Real.” She didn't bring it up again.

In many ways, though, things weren’t so different now that they confessed their feelings from the way they were before. Everyone knew what was happening, nobody said anything. Athena and Finnick woke up early every morning to go on a run through the district, spent hours training at the academy, studied their potential competition and worked out their angle for the Games with Mags. They were just a little different as they went about it now.

“You know, I used to hate doing this, but now I'm realizing it's not so bad,” Athena said as they were training in the academy one early morning. Finnick was trying his hand at archery, while Athena was camouflaging her arm so that it matched the bark of a tree perfectly.

“It might have something to do with the years you've spent doing art,” Finnick pointed out, as he worked on being able to hit the center of his target.

“You might have a point,” Athena conceded, finishing her work and examining it carefully. She held out her arm to him. “What do you think? Good?”

“It looks great,” Finnick said. “Really brings out your eyes.”

She gave him a look, but she cracked a smile as she washed the materials off her arm. “'Good job’ would've been enough.”

He looked over at her, before lowering his bow and walking towards her saying, “Good job, Athena. It looked very convincing. If I was your instructor in the academy I'd be giving you a hundred percent.”

He walked until he was right in front of her. She smiled up at him, saying “The idea of you as my instructor in the academy is slightly horrifying, but I appreciate the compliment.”

He grinned, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her closer to him, but she took a step back, looking up at him in surprise and alarm.

“Finnick,” she whispered, “we can't - it's not safe - ”

“Why not?” he said. “No one's here and they won't be for another hour.”

“Yes, but,” Athena said, biting her lip and looking around the training room, “there are probably - there must be - ”

“No cameras,” Finnick said, immediately knowing what she must be trying to find. “Not in this room, at least.

“How can you know that?” she said suspiciously, frowning, her eyes furrowed.

“Because one time I punched someone’s face in in here, and I never got in trouble,” he said matter-of-factly. She didn’t look particularly surprised; he had had a bit of reputation for getting into fights when he was still in school, and he had told her all about it. “It was right by the archery station, actually. The fact that I never got in trouble is probably because no one ever found out, which means there can’t be any cameras here.” Finnick took a step closer to her. She didn’t move. “It’s okay here. We're okay. Kiss me.”

Athena only hesitated for a split second, before going up on tiptoe to kiss him, taking his face in her hands. She was a little slow, hesitant as she did it at first, but the hesitation melted away before long. He smiled into the kiss, wrapping his arms around her waist again and pulling her close to him. She moved her hands to run them through his hair, tugging on them lightly in a way that drew a groan out of him, pulling her closer still and running his hands along her body. She felt so warm against him, the light scent of cinnamon and vanilla filled his senses, and this was new and familiar and exciting and safe all at once, and all in the best way.

Yes, things were different in some ways now. But different didn't have to be bad. Different didn't have to be dangerous.

 

*

 

Athena was watching, paying close attention. She was on _The Adventurer,_ Hudson by her side, watching as Coral, Irven, and Beck tried to work together to get the ship back to the docks. The waters were a little turbulent, but were mostly rather calm, making their job easier for them. They were struggling a little, so that Athena or Hudson had to shout out reminders to them occasionally, but they worked efficiently together so that soon they were safely docked again.

As they had moved along in training, Athena and Hudson began emphasizing they do exercises that strengthened their abilities as a team. The three young trainees hadn't understood the point of these team building exercises at first, but Athena and Hudson had insisted on it (after all, you could be amazing on your own, but you were only as strong as your weakest link), and they had come to appreciate them. It made them closer and even made them become good friends, a near inseparable trio. Even Coral, who had only been there to appease her parents was beginning to genuinely enjoy the work they were doing. The positive effect of it was clearly evidenced by their success today.

“Good work!” Athena said, clapping her hands together. “You all kept a cool head and worked together well. There were some definite weak points, but nothing that can't get better with some more practice.”

You do need more work,” Hudson said firmly. “But this was a success.”

Coral, Irven, and Beck knew that if they were being praised by both Athena and Hudson then they must have done well, so they grinned at each other excitedly, practically buzzing. Athena looked on with something that felt quite like pride.

As they were all getting off the ship, Irven spoke. “Athena?”

“Yeah?”

“If you go into the arena for this Quarter Quell, who's gonna be our instructor?”

And it was a fair question. After all, these Games were different. Any other year, Hudson would take over while she was away as a mentor, and in a few weeks she would come back, her return almost a guarantee. This year was different. This year, she'd be a tribute again.

“ _Bridges_ ,” Hudson said sharply, while Coral and Beck elbowed him, shaking their heads.

“Hey, Hudson,” Athena said gently, placing a hand on her shoulders. “It's fine, it's a fair question.” Hudson still had a hard look on her face, but she didn't say anything else. Athena turned to the three trainees. “If I do go into the arena and... and don't come back, you'll have a replacement. Hudson and I have been looking at some potential candidates, and though there haven't been any final decisions, I can assure you whoever you get will be amazing.”

“I don't want someone else, though,” Beck said, frowning. “I want you!”

Athena's heart sank. They had all grown to like and care about each other quite a bit. She hated that she would be leaving them behind, too. She was at a loss at what to say; she couldn't promise them she'd come back, after all.

Clearly trying to console her friend and lift everyone's spirits, Coral said, “You know, my parents were talking during dinner the other day and said this Quarter Quell might not even happen.”

Athena blinked, tilting her head in confusion at Coral. “What do you mean? Do they think they'll change the theme, you mean?”

For that was the only explanation that made sense to Athena, because there was no way the Games themselves would be cancelled. In nearly seventy-five years of the Hunger Games, the Games had never been cancelled or even postponed. The mere idea was unheard of (but then again, the mere idea of two victors had been unheard of too...). And after all, the Hunger Games was essentially about the Capitol punishing the districts for ever rebelling, so there was no way the Capitol would cancel them this year, in a time of mounting tension and rebellion. Surely the Capitol aimed to crush their spirits once and for all before things could get any worse.

But to her surprise, Coral was shaking her head and saying, “No, they said that the whole Games -”

But before she could say anymore, Hudson cut across her sharply, hissing, “Sienna! That's enough! Nonsense like that is nothing to be spoken of out loud, you should know that by now!”

Coral nodded, bowing her head, looking ashamed, but Athena still did not understand. When the three trainees had left for the day and it was just Athena and Hudson left, the former turned to the latter, lowering her voice significantly as she said, “Hey, what was Coral talking about back there?”

“Nothing she truly understands,” Hudson said dismissively. “It's just words she heard at the dinner table - the fact that they said things like that so openly... I'm gonna have a word with her parents next time I see them around here...”

“Yes, but what do they mean by it?” Athena said. “There's no way the Games will be cancelled, that's impossible.” When Hudson didn't speak immediately, Athena raised her eyebrows slightly. “Right?”

Finally, Hudson just said, “Never mind that, don't you worry about it.” When Athena opened her mouth to protest, Hudson said, “You have enough on your plate without worrying about any of what you heard. Don't worry about it, Maris, forget what you heard, okay?”

And though Athena still wasn't satisfied and still wanted an explanation, she knew Hudson well enough to know she wouldn't anything else out of her. Sighing, she nodded and spoke.

“Okay.”

 

*

 

Athena decided to bring it up to Finnick and Mags when they were all at Mags' place, about to study the tapes of all the victors from District Eight. Athena was searching for the right tapes where they sat on one of Mags’ shelves, when she said, as casually as she could, “You know, one of my trainees said something a little... funny today.”

“What's that?” Finnick called from the kitchen, where he was making tea for them.

“You might wanna be in here for this,” Athena said lightly.

Mags sat up straighter in her armchair at that, and Finnick was in the living room within seconds. Athena switched to sign language then, signing, “She said her parents were saying there might not be a Quarter Quell at all - like, the Games themselves won't even happen. That sounded insane, so I asked Hudson about it after and she wouldn't tell me anything, which means there has to be something to what Coral was saying. I just don't know what.”

“No Games?” Finnick signed, frowning. “There's no way the Capitol would ever let that happen. She must have heard wrong or misunderstood something.”

“Well, maybe,” Athena signed, “except the way Hudson was looking and talking made it seem like there's something to what she was saying. She even said she was going to have a word with Coral's parents about talking so openly, which means there must be something to talk about, and it must be something dangerous.”

But what could it be?” Finnick signed. “That could stop the Games, especially a Quarter Quell, especially at a time like this?”

“That's what I'm wondering,” Athena signed. They stared at each other from across the room, before turning, almost in unison, to look at Mags. “Do you know?”

Mags simply looked at them for a moment, before she sighed, leaning forward in her armchair and signing, “Look, this Quarter Quell means something to a lot of people. It's not just coincidence that this theme was chosen this year. There's a meaning behind it.”

This was true. Athena, Finnick, and Mags had all discussed it, and they all agreed there was no way that a theme that would wipe out a great deal of Panem’s currently living victors had been chosen the year after Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark openly defied the very foundations of the Hunger Games out of pure coincidence.

“It’s meant to signify something,” Mags continued signing. “Now, to the Capitol, it might signify one thing, but over here, to some people - more than you'd think - it signifies something different. It signifies a chance to make a change, to start taking action.”

Athena and Finnick exchanged looks, frowning, before the former signed, “What kind of action? More than cutting down on the amount of seafood exports?”

“More than that,” Mags signed in confirmation, nodding. “There's no set plans yet as far as I can tell - people have only started grouping together recently, because the opportunity only came recently. But they meet in all these different groups. They're hidden, of course, but they're there - if you know when and where to look.”

Athena and Finnick exchanged looks again, before the latter signed slowly, “So you mean... there are actual groups of people planning... what? A way to take down the Capitol?”

In a sense, yes,” Mags confirmed. “Or at least, a way to play a part. They have limited power and resources and they know it.”

“And we could,” Athena signed, “see these groups, theoretically? If we wanted to?”

“If you wanted to,” Mags nodded. “But these aren’t regular groups and regular meetings. This is dangerous. You probably wouldn’t be able to show your faces - two victors getting implicated will only complicate things, especially if they ever get caught. You’d have to be careful. You’d have to be safe.” Mags didn’t tell them not to go check it out for themselves, probably because she knew them well enough to know that they would be unable to help investigating if the opportunity came. Mags, not one to deny the evident, opted to warn them instead about the reality of it so they might be ready for it. She leaned back in her chair and signed, “Now, enough of that. You have a lot to concern yourselves with already. Including these tapes of these District Eight victors - Athena, have you found them?”

“Oh,” Athena said, having forgotten all about what she had been looking for; she pulled the tapes in question out from the shelf and said, “Yeah, found them.”

At that moment, they could hear the kettle stop, signifying the water was boiled, and Finnick said, “I’ll take care of that.”

He looked at Mags for a split second longer, before exchanging one last shared glance with Athena, before shuffling back into the kitchen. Athena watched him as he went, clutching the tapes in her hands, before looking back over at Mags, who seemed to be studying her.

“What?” Athena asked, trying not to fidget or lower her eyes under Mags’ watchful, X-Ray-like gaze; it always felt like Mags was reading her mind like it was light reading when she looked at her like that.

“None of us are going to be able to come back from this,” Mags signed.

“I know,” Athena signed back.

“I know you do,” Mags signed. “I know you're very keenly aware of it. You shouldn't have to be.”

And before Athena could say anything to that, Mags was signing, “Let me see these tapes, then,” and Finnick emerging from the kitchen with mugs of tea, they began studying each tape closely, and the moment for it had passed.

 

*

 

Athena wasn't entirely sure that they were being safe. Actually, she was positive they weren't. After all, heading to observe a meeting where a group of people - perhaps people they saw in the streets, people they passed every day, former neighbours - would be discussing how they could best play a role in bringing down the Capitol was far from a safe thing. Finnick had found her less than fifteen minutes ago, said he’d overheard a conversation at the docks that mentioned something about a meeting that would be happening within the hour, pointing out that this might be their best chance to see what these meetings Mags spoke of were actually about. They donned clothes with hoods that could cover their faces (at least they were taking precautions, as Mags had warned them to do), and were walking over to where the meeting would be held minutes later.

They met in the middle of the day, which Athena supposed made sense; hiding in plain sight was probably much easier and much more effective than sneaking around after curfew. They would be meeting in the neighbourhood not far from where Athena and Finnick had grown up, in a construction site where more houses were supposed to be built until the project was abandoned several decades ago.

Athena was thinking about what she might find at this meeting, but she was also watching the people they passed as they walked, watched their expressions as they crossed paths for that split second. There were no lingering looks in their direction, no flicker of recognition as they looked at them, no straightening up or waving excitedly at them to get their attention, and it was only in that moment that Athena realized just what it meant to have nobody recognize them. To the rest of the world, they were not Athena and Finnick. To the rest of the world, they were just two people. And any two people could do as they liked. They could even...

Slowly, Athena reached out her hand until the back of it was brushing against the back of Finnick’s gently. Testing the waters. Asking if Finnick understood what she did.

Finnick looked down at her when he felt it, frowning at her, his brow furrowed, whispering “What are you - we can’t - not when we’re - ”

“Nobody recognizes us,” she said in a low voice, then looked at him directly in the eyes as she said it again, more clearly. “Nobody recognizes us.”

And for a moment, he seemed confused still, until realization washed over his face at all once. He tore his eyes away from her, looking around at the street around them, at the people passing by them, unknowing, indifferent. He looked back at her, then made himself look forward, but his hand was moving now. He moved it as though to take hers, but stopped himself suddenly, instead tracing his fingers along the palm slowly, as though dipping his feet into the water, waiting to see what would happen if he dared to actually do it.

When he finally did take her hand in his, and she laced their fingers together, nothing happened. Nobody looked twice at them, if they looked at all. They moved to walk closer together. Nobody so much as blinked. They were not Athena and Finnick, according to the rest of the world, and so long as that was what the rest of the world thought, they could be together in any way they liked. The minor, temporary freedom was bittersweet, though, because it weighed heavy on her mind and her heart that they could only do something like this if they were wearing disguises.

The site of the meeting was almost abandoned, save for the members of this rebel group that were gathering in a house that had been half-built, meaning only two walls had been built, one of which had only been built to half its intended height. She recognized a few of the group members by sight, which she had expected, but none of them by name.

“I don’t know any of these people,” Finnick murmured. “Do you?” She shook her head. “Let’s hang back. We shouldn’t draw any attention to ourselves yet.”

None of the people gathered had noticed them yet, giving them a window of opportunity to hide somewhere. Athena scanned the area, before pointing out the piles of wood and brick and stone piled high, giving them an opportunity to observe and listen to the meeting without being seen themselves. Still holding hands, they crept over until they were crouched behind the piles, peering over them to see the meeting unfolding in front of them.

They continued talking quietly amongst themselves for a time, before a middle-aged woman with greying hair pulled loosely back into a ponytail stepped forward, saying, “We’re ignoring some key details here. We'll never be able to act unless we know what's happening at our own backyard.” She turned to a man and a woman who were slightly younger than her, folding her arms as she regarded them, saying, “Any word on how many more Peacekeepers are coming into the district?”

“Twenty-five more are coming in today,” the younger woman replied at once. “And neither of us could find an exact number, but more will becoming in in the next few months, especially between now and the Reaping.”

“The Reaping?” the grey-haired woman repeated, her brow furrowed. “Awfully convenient timing...”

"That’s what we were thinking,” interjected the man. “We thought... we were thinking...” he glanced nervously at the woman beside him, as though for affirmation, before looking at the grey-haired woman, “we were thinking maybe they’re onto us. That we should - that we should quit before we get caught - ”

“Quit?” the woman said sharply. “Why the hell would we do that?”

“If - if we’re caught they’ll kill us - ” the man said, a little hesitantly.

“And what happens if we do nothing?” the woman said sharply. “You think this won't end with the death of all of us if we don't stop this? They will never, _ever_ stop. I thought, Perseus, if nothing else, this Quarter Quell would have taught you that. If _they_ won't stop it, _we_ must.”

“But, Genevieve, what can we do to stop it if we've died in some hopeless mission?” the man called Perseus said plaintively.

The grey-haired woman, Genevieve, straightened up, her posture stiffening, and Athena could feel the air shift and become more tense. “Hopeless? You call this a hopeless mission? For many of us, this is our last hope.” Genevieve walked forward until she was right in the Perseus’ face. He seemed to shrink back. “I’m willing to die for this cause, if that’s what it takes,” she said, lifting her chin as she stared down at him. “I thought you were too. I thought that’s why you even showed up in the first place.”

“Listen - listen, Genevieve,” Perseus said desperately, “I understand, but - but we’re just people. We’re just people. We can’t do this.”

“Maybe not alone,” Genevieve said fiercely, “but with the right kind of help, we can.”

“What kind of help is that?” the woman cut in, clearly aiming to diffuse the tension.

“Different kinds,” Genevieve replied. “From people like Hudson over at the docks, people with influence, but most of all, the victors.”

The woman raised her eyebrows. “The victors?”

Genevieve nodded. “Yes, the victors. The victors are the key. They have the most power and influence of anyone in the district.”

“The victors are losing power more and more with every day, Snow’s been making sure of that,” said Perseus. “That’s the whole point of this Quell.”

“He’s been trying, yes,” Genevieve agreed, “but that’s because he knows what they’re capable of. Look at the kids from District Twelve. They're the ones that started all this, and all they had to do was pretend to eat some berries. The Capitol knows it too. Why do you think they televise them doing all those bullshit speeches and and events? The power is with the victors. That much is obvious. If we could get them on our team, that could change everything. And people like Mags, they’ll do something, whatever they can.”

Athena and Finnick, still clutching each other’s hands, exchanged looks. Athena had never heard people talk about the victors in such a way, especially so openly and plainly, and she was a little at a loss. Why did this group need the help of victors so badly? What were they planning?

“Should we show ourselves now?” Finnick murmured.

“I think - ” Athena began, then stopped dead at something she saw in the distance, her heart stopping for a moment. “ _Finnick_. Finnick, _look_.”

She pointed subtly. Finnick followed her line of vision, and at first he did not seem to see them, until recognition and fear settled into his face, and she knew he had seen them, the pure white uniforms, drawing closer and closer.

“Peacekeepers,” he hissed. “We have to get out of here.”

“We can’t just leave them here,” Athena pointed out urgently. “We have to warn them.”

“But _how?_ ”

Athena looked around desperately, her heart pounding wildly in her chest, trying to find something. The Peacekeepers were so close, she could make out fifteen of them compared to the group of ten rebels, and they were beginning to run now that they had found their targets. Desperate, Athena picked up a brick and threw it as hard as she could in the direction of the rebel group, before yanking Finnick down so that they were both completely hidden by the stack of materials. As Athena had intended, the brick didn’t hit any of the members, but they were all startled out of their conversation, tense and looking for the person who had thrown it.

“Who did that? Who threw that? Do any of you see them?”

“No.”

“No one, no.”

" _I_ see people,” came Perseus’ voice, panicked, terrified. “Peacekeepers! We need to get out of here, now!”

And she could hear the sounds of them scrambling to leave, but that was when the gunshots started, and so did the screams of horror and pain.

“Athena,” Finnick yelled, struggling to be heard over all the gunshots, “Athena, we have to go!”

But Athena was frozen in place, but Finnick simply held tighter onto her hand and pulled her away, and then they were sprinting away, away, away, while hell broke loose behind them. Nobody shot at them. Athena looked back and saw that nobody had even noticed them, too caught up in the horrible, bloody scene they were in. The rebels were desperately trying to escape, and the Peacekeepers were chasing them and gunning them down. She wanted to go back for them, even though she knew she could do nothing, but Finnick seemed to sense this in her, because he kept his grip on her hand firm, and soon they were gone, away from the construction site. Somewhere along the way, Athena took the lead and lead them to her old home, fumbling as she grabbed the key from its hiding place and opened the door.

They hid out in the empty, abandoned sitting room for what must have been hours, sitting on the floor and leaning against the wall. Athena curled into Finnick, her head on his chest (she tried to focus only on the sound of his heartbeat in an attempt to steady herself), and he wrapped his arms around her tightly, the two of them staying like that the whole time, as though waiting for the world to come crashing down outside. It never did. Still, though, the earth beneath them had shifted. They both felt it. And there would be no coming back from it. She wished, though, for one moment, that she didn't have to be so aware of it.


	9. VIII

**VIII**

 

The district-wide curfew was being implemented more strictly than ever. All citizens were to be in their homes by nine in the evening, and could not leave again until seven in the morning. Victors’ Village was such a small, gated, isolated community with Peacekeepers rarely ever present that its residents were still able to move about the neighbourhood after curfew without there being any trouble, but being found outside the neighbourhood was not taken so lightly. Anyone caught after curfew would be arrested, and if they were perceived as even remotely threatening or dangerous, they would be shot on sight. Already, two people had been arrested for breaking curfew. Despite this, Athena still made her way through the district after curfew on multiple occasions, either alone or with Finnick. She had been ducking and avoiding Peacekeepers all her life, after all, it wasn’t very hard for her to do at this point. They might have been more vigilant now, but so was she, and she had learned from a young age to always be one step ahead.

For this reason, Athena found herself at her father’s grave two nights before the Reaping. Peacekeepers almost never came around here, so she didn’t have much to worry about once she got there. Maybe even they didn’t want to disturb the dead. Athena, however, had become very closely acquainted with death. When they did come around, it was always easy enough to hide. Overall, she and her father had plenty of time alone that night.

Athena hadn't done this - that was to say, visit her father's grave in secret in the dead of night until the sun rose above them - in years. Any time she visited her father's grave, it was usually with someone, and even when she did go alone, she would always make it known that she was doing it, and never so late at night. Not long after her father's death, she had done it all the time, had been consumed by it, until she was doing these secret visits nearly every day. Still, she had thought that was in the past, so the fact that she was there surprised even her. She wasn't even entirely sure why she had come. She just hadn't been able to sleep and felt restless, so she left a note for her mother and Calypso that she'd needed some air and left. Once she was out, she found her feet propelling her forward until she found herself in front of his tomb.

“I'm sorry I haven't visited in awhile,” she said softly, running her hand along the grass, still slightly damp from a rainfall the night before. “Things have been so out of control lately.”

This was likely an understatement. It had been a couple weeks since she and Finnick had observed the meeting of the rebel group that had been brutally interrupted, but Athena could still hear the gunfire blazing, the cries of pain, echoing in her mind at all times. None of them had survived except for Genevieve Moselle and the woman, Shelley Murray, but the latter had been grievously injured and died before she could make it to the hospital. Genevieve had come out relatively unscathed, but they took her and questioned for hours to get answers out of her about their plans, but she never said a word, apparently deadly silent through the entire interrogation. They ended up executing her the next morning, doing it privately instead of making it the public affair the way Athena thought they would. Any other meetings and groupings that might have been happening stopped after that. They were being watched more than ever, and the Peacekeepers had proven they were unafraid to punish severely. The plan was halted before it could really even begin.

Hudson, heartbreakingly defeated, almost deflated, had finally told Athena what the plan had been. She had told her while they were out on the water, where their words would stay between them, the wind, and the sea. The plan had actually been quite straightforward; it was to take control of all the main points of control, in a siege not unlike the one District Eight had done months ago, only more organized and with more people. It would happen the morning of the Reaping, with the idea that the Capitol would have its hands so full trying to take back control of the district that they'd be unable to go on with the Games. The victors would be there to encourage more citizens to help and provide support and resources, perhaps causing diversions or posing as a distraction to buy more time. It was a reckless plan, Athena thought, relying heavily on luck, especially since Peacekeepers were bound to be more on guard for a takeover after the uprising in District Eight. The likelihood of it working even if it was executed was low. Not that it mattered now.

Everyone in District Four seemed to be on edge, an odd combination of fearful and angry and something close to hopeless. News of the plan had spread over time, and though not too many people had known about it beforehand or been involved in it, it felt quite like one last, desperate hope had been ripped away from them. There was anger bubbling under the surface at the massacring of citizens of the district, people they had known, neighbours and friends and family members, but it seemed like there was nothing they could do, not now. After all, the Peacekeepers had proven once and for all they weren’t afraid of spilling as much blood as they felt was necessary, and no one would dare risk something like this now.

Athena let out a sigh, resting her elbows on her crossed legs and cupping her chin in her hands, murmuring softly, “What would you make of all this, Dad?”

She tried to imagine it, her father reacting to all this chaos. He would be frightened, though he would try not to show it. He’d try to protect them, try to keep them safe, but how would he be able to do that? There was no protecting anyone now, not even yourself. It was an odd thing to think about, the fact that neither of her parents could do anything to protect her and, really, never could have, regardless of the safety Athena had always associated with them. It must be torture, having children and never truly being able to keep them safe, it broke her heart that it was a burden they both bore. It also solidified her desire to never have children.

Not that it mattered what she wanted now when it came to having children. After all, the Reaping was in two days and even if her name wasn’t drawn she would volunteer, and then after another week she would be in the arena for a second time, and then she would be -

“Maybe I’ll be with you soon,” Athena said to the grave, but saying it out loud made the reality of it wash over her, which brought about a scratchy feeling in her throat and a stinging feeling in her eyes and the feeling was so overwhelming she thought she’d choke on it, so instead she started talking about her art (she liked describing the things she’d drawn and painted to him, since it was the closest they'd ever get to him actually seeing her art).

The sky lightened gradually as night turned to day. Her father used to look different in every light. The darkness of the night coupled with the glow from the moon and the stars always made him look younger, his body awash with a silvery glow so he looked almost blue under the light. The light of the sun brought out all the details of his face, the lines on his face from age and stress and laughter, but it also turned his skin to gold, radiating more warmth than usual. The grave looked the same in every light, and that was all that was left of him. A grave, a large slab of white marble with markings carved on it. That was all. Nothing else.

When the sun was almost fully up in the sky, she heard footsteps. Athena was about to dive behind a nearby bush, when she turned and saw three familiar, welcome faces. Calypso, their mother, and Finnick were approaching, the latter seeming to be carrying something that was concealed behind his back. Evidently, the curfew had passed. She was quick to get to her feet as the three of them drew level to her.

“Hi,” Athena said, a little breathless. “What are you doing here?”

“We called Finnick when we saw you still hadn’t come back,” Calypso said. “He went to look for you but didn’t find you. We figured you might be here.”

“I - ” she felt an odd need to apologize; for worrying them, for disappearing into the night without specifying where, for ending up here of all places. “I - I'm sorry - I didn't mean - I didn't even realize where I was - ”

“We understand,” her mother said at once. “He always had a way of making things better.”

Athena smiled weakly and nodded.

Finnick cleared his throat, saying, “Uh - we - we got these on the way.”

From behind his back, he revealed a bouquet of flowers, which he then placed at Douglas Maris’ grave, standing out vibrantly against the white marble of the tomb. Athena stared at the flowers, smiling a little, until her eyes landed back on the tomb, staring and staring and staring, unable to tear her eyes away, until her mother took her hand gently and said that they ought to go.

They had barely passed the gate of the graveyard when they were approached by four Peacekeepers. The group slowed to a stop, the Peacekeepers’ focus seemed to settle on her, and Athena was already uneasy. There was no way they knew she'd been out after curfew, right? They would have confronted her immediately, arrested or even shot at her, surely? It had to be something else, but what?

“Athena Maris,” one of the Peacekeepers said. She nodded once, warily. “Mayor Trenton wishes to speak with you.” Finnick shifted a little from behind her, and the Peacekeeper added pointedly, “Alone.”

“Of course she does,” Athena muttered under her breath, before straightening up and asking, “About what?”

“That matters little,” the Peacekeeper said shortly. “But she demands you see her in private immediately.”

Athena sighed. It was the last thing she wanted to do, but there was no disobeying the mayor or resisting these Peacekeepers. The sooner she accepted it, the sooner it'd all be over with. “Fine.”

“Well, maybe one of us should come with her - ” Finnick began, already stepping forward.

“She is to come alone,” said another Peacekeeper dismissively. “That was part of Mayor Trenton's orders.”

“I'll be fine,” Athena muttered.

“The mayor already knows me well, I'm sure there'd be no harm if I -?” Calypso offered, but this time it was Athena who interrupted.

“I'll be fine,” she said again, and gave them a significant look. It was clear that none of them wanted her to go alone with these Peacekeepers, and though she loved them for it, she also knew there was no use in this. They would get what they wanted no matter what. And besides, she didn't really have much to worry about at that moment. It was the day before the Reaping; no way they would do anything to harm her now. If they wanted her dead, they'd just rig the drawing to make sure her name was Reaped tomorrow. Finally, reluctantly, her mother, Calypso, and Finnick all nodded. “Go on without me, I'll be home soon. I'm sure whatever business Mayor Trenton and I have won't take long.”

She nodded reassuringly at them, before allowing herself to be escorted away by the four Peacekeepers, two in front of her, the other two behind her. She glanced over her shoulder as they walked, saw three of the people she loved most get smaller and smaller and smaller as she walked further and further away, trapped between the Peacekeepers dressed in their pristine white with their guns held at the ready in their hands.

Mayor Trenton was at her desk when they reached the Justice Building and entered her office. She wasn't working, nor had she attempted to at least make it look like she was. She held a pen in her hands, clicking and unclicking it repeatedly. It was restless, fidgety behaviour that she had never seen Mayor Trenton show. It felt oddly like she was walking in on something she wasn't supposed to see, though she'd been summoned here.

She looked up as soon as they walked in, straightening up and saying, “Good, Athena, you're here. That was fast.” She turned to the four Peacekeepers and said, “You can go. Wait outside.”

They all seemed rather reluctant, but did as they were told. Athena didn't feel much better with them gone, but she didn't feel worse.

“Have a seat,” said the mayor, gesturing to the empty seat across from her, and Athena did as she was told. There was a silence. The mayor was still holding the pen in her hand. “I didn't bring you here to scare you this time.”

“With all due respect, Mayor Trenton, I highly doubt that, but that's okay,” Athena said flatly. “I wasn't really scared anyway.”

“Well, that's good,” she said. “I simply have a few matters to discuss with you. Including, as you’ve probably guessed, our district’s exports to the Capitol.”

And indeed, Athena had guessed that this is what this meeting would be about. “I really don’t have anything to tell you that’s different from our last discussion about it.”

“Is that so?” Mayor Trenton asked. “No explanation as to why our exports keep decreasing more and more, even as the weather gets better?”

“To be honest with you, Mayor Trenton, I haven’t even been at the docks as much as usual,” Athena said. “But if I had to guess, this curfew might have something to do with it.”

Nothing Athena had said was necessarily untrue. As the Reaping approached and the amount of hours Athena and Finnick spent training for the Games increased, the amount of time either of them spent at the docks also decreased. It was also true that the curfew cut into the time the ships spent at sea, decreasing the amount of fish they caught. It just, of course, was not the only factor.

“There’s nothing I can do about the curfew,” said Mayor Trenton. “That was implemented by the Capitol at President Snow’s request.”

“I didn’t say it was on you,” Athena shrugged, feeling a touch impatient. “But if our friends at the Capitol are asking questions, you might want to ask them to reconsider that curfew.”

“That curfew was implemented out of necessity,” said the mayor, but even she couldn’t seem to put her heart in it. “And this issue has to be fixed.”

“Mayor Trenton,” Athena said, with forced calm, “I'm going to the Capitol tomorrow, either as a mentor or a tribute for the second time. Forgive me if there are things on my mind other than our district’s seafood exports.”

The mayor stiffened slightly. “I understand you have a lot to concern yourself with, of course, with the big day being tomorrow,” she said, and Athena fought back a humorless laugh at the way the mayor spoke of the Reaping, “and, of course, the death of two people you cared very much about,” and Athena’s heart felt heavy at the mention of Penelope and Talisa, “but you also have a duty to the district and the country. If you truly know nothing about our exports, perhaps you have knowledge about other important matters.”

“Like what?”

“Maybe the activities of others in the district,” the mayor said. “I’m sure you heard about the rebel group being apprehended.”

“I did,” was all Athena said, deciding not to mention that she had been there that day, had witnessed it happening.

“You wouldn’t happen to know anything about it, would you?” Mayor Trenton said.

Athena shrugged. “Not much more than anyone else knows. I wasn’t aware of it until that group got killed.”

“Well,” Mayor Trenton said slowly, leaning back in her chair, “it is worth noting that their plans aimed to stop the Games from happening. Since this Quarter Quell would have you or one of your closest friends re-enter the arena, some might say it would be in the best interest of someone like you to have them stopped.”

Athena raised her eyebrows. “That’s a heavy accusation to be throwing around, Mayor Trenton.”

“I’m making no accusations,” she replied. _Not yet._ “I’m merely pointing out the facts.”

“And I’ll point out some facts of my own, then. I think they were delusional to think that they could stop the Games from happening,” Athena said shortly, and this was at least partially true, since she had never even been able to imagine a world where these rebel groups succeeded. “This is the seventy-fifth year of the Games, and they’ve never been so much as delayed before. They could’ve never done it. There’s no way it could’ve happened. Also, every year for the past three years my sister has been eligible to be Reaped in the Games - is it not in my best interests then to stop the Games? Is it not in the best interests of anyone who has ever been eligible or has a loved one that is eligible to have the Games stopped? Under this logic, Mayor Trenton, should you not be _pointing out facts_ like these about everyone? So why single me out?”

“You seem rather defensive,” Mayor Trenton said in reply.

“You’re accusing me of treason,” said Athena. “That’s not something that gets taken lightly, especially not with our friends at the Capitol. Excuse me if I’m a little disturbed by that.” when the mayor said nothing, Athena sighed and said, “Look, think what you want about me, but I understand how this country works. I understand that they’re not going to stop the Games, especially this year. And I wouldn’t risk putting the people I care about in danger for some desperate scheme. If you should know anything about me, Mayor Trenton, you should know that. Besides, it’s not like it matters now. Nobody’s going to do anything after everyone in that group got killed. They wanted to stop any trouble before it could happen, and they did.”

There was a silence. Mayor Trenton’s face seemed to change; she seemed much older, sadder and more weary. All at once, Athena felt sorry for her again, regretted being so short with her. She was someone in an impossibly difficult situation, trying to protect people who could not really be saved.

“I see you sometimes,” the mayor said distractedly. “You and Finnick Odair, running all through the district. Headmaster Moore tells me the two of you have been using the academy’s facilities to work out every day.”

“We,” Athena began, slowly, “we like to come prepared.”

“But you don’t even know if you’ll be Reaped.”

Athena said nothing to that.

“Unless you volunteer for one of your victors.”

Athena stayed silent. Understanding seemed to cross the mayor’s face, and then there was a look as if she was staring at a ghost. Athena found she wanted to leave more than ever.

“You know, I have a daughter your age,” the mayor said suddenly.

“Yeah, I know,” said Athena. “Delphine. She’s really nice.”

“She is,” Mayor Trenton agreed, with a fond smile. “She’s nothing like you, though.”  
“Lucky her,” Athena said with an empty smile. “And lucky you, for not having to deal with that.”

Her mind drifted to her mother and sister, her mother and sister who were at home, her mother and sister who were probably worried about her, her mother and sister who she would be leaving behind tomorrow, perhaps once and for all, her mother and sister who she was failing. They deserved so much better...

“I’m not so sure we’re lucky,” the mayor said thoughtfully. “The things you are willing to sacrifice, the lengths you are willing to go to... it’s a rare thing.”

Athena didn’t say anything. She didn’t know what to say.

“It’s clear you don’t have anything of use to say to me,” the mayor said suddenly, seeming to snap out of her reverie. “There’s no use in wasting both of our time.”

Recognizing and admittedly grateful for the dismissal, Athena stood immediately. Once she was on her feet again, though, she hovered in place for a moment, hesitant. She felt she ought to say something - a thank you, an apology, good luck, something - but the mayor spoke before she could.

“You should go,” she said, her voice surprisingly soft. “Now is a time for family. I’m sure you’ve come to learn how limited that time can be.”

“Yes, Mayor Trenton,” Athena said, a little heavily. “I think I have.”

And then she turned and walked out of the room as fast as she could through the lead-like feeling in her legs.

 

*

 

“What did the mayor want to talk about?”

It was her mother who asked the question as soon as Athena walked inside her home, kicking off her shoes and shuffling into the living room, making both her mother and Calypso look up from what they were doing.

“Politics,” Athena said with a shrug.

“The mayor wanted to talk about politics?” Calypso said sarcastically. “Shocking.”

“I know, I couldn’t believe it either,” Athena said, matching her sister’s tone. At the curious look on her mother’s face, she added, “It’s nothing new, and I’d rather not talk about it.”

Her mother nodded in understanding from her seat on an armchair, before pushing up her glasses that she had gotten as years went by and her eyesight got worse (Marella Maris had expressly forbidden either of her daughters for making any old people jokes; Calypso had grinned and asked if they should start looking for canes next, too, and Athena had laughed at that but taken a moment to be grateful that her mother had lived long enough to experience the various aspects of aging).

“Where’d Finnick go?” Athena asked, stretching and flopping onto the couch, resting her legs on Calypso’s lap.

“He and Annie went to the beach, I think,” Calypso replied, pushing her older sister’s legs off her lap. “You know, I’m surprised, it’s been a solid hour or so without seeing or hearing him and you haven’t burst into flames yet.”

“You’re hilarious,” Athena said sarcastically, placing her legs back on her sister’s lap. “Really original material. Not like you haven’t used that one before.”

“I’ll keep using it as long as it’s relevant,” Calypso said matter-of-factly. “Which doesn’t look like it’s about to change.”

“Make all the jokes you want about our friendship,” Athena said, very purposeful in the use of the word friendship; her mother and sister both might have realized the true nature of her and Finnick’s relationship, but they still couldn’t skirt too close to speaking of it aloud, and this was meant to be a reminder. “I’m still not the one who did a whole project about why he’s the victor I look up to the most.”

“I was a kid and I didn’t know him then!” Calypso said defensively. “And I still don’t believe you didn’t do the same thing. You’re probably lying about doing it about Mags, for all I know.”

“Ask Mom, then, she proofread my project,” Athena said, stretching.

“She did do it on Mags, Calypso,” their mother said listlessly, not looking up from her book. “Finnick wasn’t even a victor when she had to do that project.”

“As I’ve always said!” Athena said, vindicated. “She never wants to listen.”

“I’m being unfairly attacked,” Calypso said, shaking her head. “By my own family!”

“It happens,” their mother said blandly. “You’ll be okay.”

Athena laughed, and even Calypso cracked a smile at her dry tone. They sat there for a while, the two sisters talking easily with their mother chiming in occasionally.

“I still don’t get how I’m the only one in the family who doesn’t hate being on the ocean,” Athena was saying. “Maybe I’m adopted.”

Her mother looked at her with raised eyebrows over the top of her book. “You’re not adopted, Athena, I have stretch marks that prove it. Besides, your grandparents on both sides loved sailing. It just skipped a generation.”

“Mhm, I still think there’s hope for you two still,” Athena said, stretching. “We’ve just got to prepare you for it - you know, train you like some of the younger recruits we get at the docks - ”

“I wish you could just stay,” Calypso blurted out.

The room went silent, heavy, thick with it. Athena shifted, swinging her feet off Calypso’s lap, sitting up straighter.

“I - what?”

“You always have to leave,” Calypso mumbled after a pause, looking down at her hands as though ashamed at her outburst. “They always take you away from us, and now - I just wish - I wish you could just stay.”

Athena’s heart seemed to sink right through the floor. She was failing them, she could not be or do what they needed, she was failing them. She wasn’t sure what else to do, so she moved over until she was right beside her younger sister, putting an arm around her and murmuring weakly, blinking back the stinging feeling in her eyes that signified the beginnings of tears, “Yeah, me too, Lypso. Me too.”

Calypso placed her head on her shoulder, and Athena placed her head on top of hers, but her eyes drifted over to her mother, who was watching them with a sorrowful, mournful look in her eyes. She put down her book then, taking off her glasses and moving across the room to kneel in front of them. She reached out slowly to take each of their cheeks in her hands, wiping away a tear forming on Calypso’s face, a watery smile crossing her own.

“My girls,” she said softly. “I always wished this pain would come to an end for you - or at least it’d all come to mean something - but this...”

And she pulled them both into a warm, bone-crushing hug, and Athena surrendered herself to it immediately, glad for a chance to feel safe and protected even if she knew it was not real, glad for a chance to feel comforted, but most of all, glad for this chance, for what was one of her last chances to be so close to her mother and sister. So she hugged her back just as tightly, burying her head in the crook of her mother’s neck, breathing her in, and tried not to choke on thoughts of how she may never have this again after tomorrow.

 

*

 

Athena was in the Capitol, and she was running. She had her spear in one hand and her golden shield in the other, dressed in the same clothes she wore during her Games, and she was sprinting as fast as she could, not daring to slow down once. She was weaving her way through busy streets and buildings as fast as her legs could carry her, while Capitol citizens gawked at her and took pictures and cried out about how they just _adored_ her. Her legs had a mind of their own, and wherever they were taking her, it was somewhere important, because they only sped up with time. Soon, she was at President Snow’s mansion, sprinting up the long driveway and running right inside.

She ran until she reached the room that held all of President Snow’s favourite artwork, including the simple painting of a man and a woman on a weak boat in the midst of a storm, the one he said symbolized how the districts had clung to a weak idea of rebellion during the Dark Days and had been punished accordingly for it. In the middle of the room, on their knees and tied up, lined up in a row, were all of District Four’s victors. Behind them was a single Peacekeeper, who removed their helmet to reveal President Snow. He smiled at her pleasantly, as though glad she could make it, before holding his gun up to Mags’ head.

Knowing immediately what he was going to do, she aimed her spear and threw it at him with all her might. It struck him right through his heart, but he simply removed it as if it was just some minor inconvenience. He didn’t even bleed. He looked back up at her like she had given him exactly what he wanted.

“I warned you,” he said, “of what would happen to those who strayed too far from the harbour.”

And before she could do anything, he shot Mags right in the back of the head. The cannon went off as Mags’ body dropped to the floor. Athena screamed, panicked and grief-stricken and furious, and lunged forward, and whether it was to reach Mags or protect the victors that still lived or kill Snow with her bare hands she didn’t know, but more Peacekeepers appeared seemingly out of thin air from behind her, holding her back no matter how she struggled. Meanwhile, Snow shifted over so that he stood behind Annie, and Athena struggled more than ever, screaming for him to just take her instead and leave them all alone. Snow smiled at that like it amused him.

“Your time will come before long,” he said calmly. “But first you must see. First you must see the depth of the damage you have caused.”

And with that, he shot Annie too, who dropped to the floor beside Mags, deep, red blood staining her dark hair, the canon going off as it did. Tears were streaming down Athena’s cheeks, but she began full-on thrashing against the Peacekeepers’ grips on her when Snow moved to the person next to Annie.

Finnick was quite clearly terrified and grief-stricken, but was at least trying to pretend he was not. Though he was shaking a little, he fixed his bloodshot eyes solely on Athena.

“It’s okay,” he told her, even though it quite clearly was not okay. “It’s okay, Athena. Just protect yourself.”

But Athena was struggling so hard against the Peacekeepers that she almost freed herself from their grasps before they redoubled their grips on her, kicking blindly at them and begging Snow desperately, “Please, not him, not him, please, I’ll do anything, please - ”

But President Snow just smiled again, aimed his gun carefully, and pulled the trigger. The canon went off again, and Athena was shooting upright, reaching out for her spear, until she looked around and realized she was in her room, in her home, in District Four. Far from the arena. Sighing, she collapses back onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling, feeling her heart rate gradually slow down to normal. It was the night before the Reaping. Every night before the Reaping there were fireworks. That was what it was. It was not the cannon signaling the death of a tribute, the death of someone she cared about, the death of Finnick... it was just the fireworks display. The fireworks display that always went on too long, the fireworks display that always echoed in her head the same way the cannon did.

She let out a sigh, rubbing her face blearily, and she was not surprised when she felt tears there, nor was she surprised when she realized she was shaking. It was not the first time a nightmare had left her in such a state, after all. She was nearly fully calmed down when more fireworks went off, making her nearly jump out of bed, and Athena gave up on sleep. It had been difficult enough already to get the little rest she had gotten when she thought about the Reaping tomorrow, but now it was impossible. She made herself get out of bed, opting to go to the kitchen for a glass of water, flinching once more as more fireworks went off.

Just as she reached the sitting room, the telephone rang. Athena hesitated for only a second, before walking over and picking up the phone.

“Athena?”

“Finnick?”

“Oh, good. I had a feeling you'd be awake too.”

“Yeah, it's kinda hard to sleep at a time like this, huh?”

“More like impossible. Can you meet me outside?”

“Okay. Yeah, of course. Right now, I'm assuming, right?”

“That was what I was implying, yeah.”

“Okay. I'll see you in a second.”

“Okay. Bye.”

“Bye.”

Athena placed the phone back on the receiver on the wall. She pulled on a pair of shoes and was about to walk right outside, but stopped suddenly, thinking of how her mother and sister would react if they woke up and she was gone. They were in tense, dangerous times; who knew what they would think had happened to her. She grabbed a scrap piece of paper and pen, before scribbling out a quick message:

_Mom, Calypso,_

_I couldn’t sleep, so I went out for some air. Don’t worry about me. I’ll come back. I’m okay. I’m with Finnick._

_Athena_

With the note written, Athena opened the door and walked out, closing and locking the door behind her. Finnick was already outside waiting for her, standing at the pathway to her house. She hurried over to meet him there. Once she was there, out of instinct, she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him to her in a tight hug. He hugged her back at once, pressing feather light kisses to her neck and shoulder as he held her tightly. She found he made her feel much warmer than the sweater she wore.

They stayed there like that for a long time, before they pulled away and Athena whispered, “Cave?”

“Cave,” he breathed.

They nearly got caught by a group of Peacekeepers once, but other than that, they made it to the cave without any problems. The fireworks finally stopped by the time they made it there. They sat side-by-side on the sand, leaning against the rough cave wall, and before long he had an arm around her and she was leaning into the warmth of his body in the cool night air, lit by the stars and the moon. The ocean was calm tonight, the lull of the water as it crashed against the shore more soothing than anything else. If this were any other night, Athena might have been able to fall asleep like this (she had done it, on more than one occasion; during those times, Finnick would simply carry her back to Victor’s Village and put her to bed, and the biggest surprise she’d ever wake up to is a few doodles he’d drawn on her while she slept).

“Are you ready?” she asked after a while of peaceful silence.

He didn't need to ask what she meant by that.

“We’ve done what we can in this time,” he replied. “We’re prepared for what comes next. We just have to do it. What about you?”

“In the same boat,” she said. “I just keep thinking of leaving everyone behind... Calypso today, she told me she wished I could stay, and I didn’t... I didn’t know what to say. All I do is leave them behind, and now this time - ”

“You’ll see them again,” he said, as confidently as he could.

Athena was rather unsure of this, but she did not have it in her to argue about her hopelessness in the arena, so she just leaned closer to Finnick and said, “We’ll have to put on the old acts starting tomorrow, and we’ll need to do it better than ever. You good to go on that or are you rusty?”

“It’s easy to slip into at this point, it’s hard to forget it,” he answered, which, of course, was true. “I could show you, but I don’t know if you can handle the seductive thing - ”

“Just do the fucking voice, Finnick.”

He grinned, but cleared his throat and said, speaking in a low, seductive purr, “Now, you know I always want to please, but it breaks my heart to leave the life I've made... the people I care about... the _special_ friends... the - ”

“Okay, so you've still got it,” Athena grinned. “My turn, I guess, right?” He nodded. “Okay, let's see... it's always so nice to be back in the Capitol - the way you've welcomed me here, like a family - but this is not the way I wanted to return. The thought of leaving you behind, never seeing any of you again hurts so much. And the people back in Four, all the people I love - ”

“Yeah, you're gonna bring on the waterworks,” Finnick said firmly, and Athena smiled at the comment.

“We're good at what we do,” she said, and neither of them pointed out that they would both be dead if they weren't.

They were silent for a time. Their hands came together, fingers lacing together, and Finnick rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb.

“What do you think Alayne’s gonna say when she sees us?” Finnick asked.

“That you look great and I look passable,” Athena shrugged, and Finnick breathed out a laugh. “I don't know, actually. She did seem genuinely shocked about this Quell thing.”

“Everyone was shocked, that doesn't mean much,” he pointed out.

“That's true,” she conceded. “She'll probably be sad for you but think of me as a regrettable but overall small loss.”

“I don't know about that,” Finnick said. “I think she cares about you more than she acts. You know, in the only way she can care, because of...”

“Because of who she is,” she finished for him. “Where she's from.”

Finnick nodded.

There was another silence at that, until she said, with obvious traces of reluctance, “We should go soon.”

“I don’t want to leave,” Finnick said quietly. “I don’t want to ever leave here. Leave this.”

And she could not blame him, not when she felt exactly the same way. After all, the cave was safe, the cave was the closest they could get to being free, to being themselves. The cave was an escape from the rest of the world, and the rest of the world aimed to cage them and eat them alive.

Still, Athena made herself get to her feet, saying, “If we don’t show up, they’ll look for us. They’ll find us here eventually. Not only will we be executed or arrested or made into Avoxes, but they’ll also find out about this place. It won’t be just between us anymore. No one else gets to have this place. Nobody gets to taint it.” She kneeled down until she was right in front of him, saying, “This place is ours, okay? It’s ours. And it always will be, no matter where we go.”

And with sudden determination, she picked up a rock with a sharp edge from the ground, brought it to the rough cave wall, and carved both of their initials carefully onto the wall, ‘FO’ and ‘AM’. When she was finished, she let the stone fall back to the sandy ground and turned back to Finnick.

“Six years and we never thought to do something like that,” she said, with a small frown. “But still, see? It’s official now.” She looked directly into his eyes. “This place is ours. I don't care what happens in that arena.”

For a moment, he just stared from her to their initials carved into the cave wall and back again, before something in his face seemed to change. He stood, approaching her slowly. He took her face in his hands gently, and whispered, his voice a little hoarse, his lips inches from hers, “Can I?”

She knew at once he was asking - they asked, often times, just to be sure it was what the other wanted - and nodded. And just as she did, his lips were on hers, kissing her, gently at first, but then with more desperation, tugging at her clothes to pull her closer to him. Her hands went to his hair, running her fingers through it(he had gotten it trimmed a little for the Reaping tomorrow, the way he always did). Gently, he guided her against the cave wall, right beside where she had carved their initials, kissing her hungrily now. When they pulled away, he kept close to her, their lips still brushing against each other.

“This is ours,” he finally said, his breathing ragged, and she knew at once he meant more than the cave. “I don’t care what happens in there either. This is ours. And if this is all we get, then this is enough. Because I still get to be with you. I still get to have you. And you have me.”

Athena couldn’t help the small smile on her face, feeling warm all over, her heart swelling in her chest, and she found herself saying the most natural thing in the world. “I love you.”

He smiled, almost relieved. “I love you too.”

She leaned up and kissed him once, twice, thrice, before making herself pull away and say firmly, “We should go.”

He nodded, and they moved away from each other, though their hands seemed to join together almost automatically. Athena’s eyes wandered over to their initials. It felt oddly like their mark on their world, and the thought of it made her think about what was ahead of them tomorrow. The power was with the victors, Genevieve Moselle had said, but what were the victors, really, at the end of the day? People. Just people with a platform, a voice people were more likely to listen to actively. People who could send messages. People who could have that power taken away at any moment, but for now, they still had it. Athena had always viewed this as a curse more than anything else, but for the first time, she was seeing how she could do something good with it.

“Finnick,” she said slowly.

“Yeah?”

“We have to send a message,” she said, turning to him, calm but determined. “This Quarter Quell, we have to use it to send a message. It might change the whole country, it might change Four, or it might not change a fucking thing, but this is it. This is our last chance to send out any kind of message. We have to use it or - or those rebels, they died for nothing. And everyone else just keeps on suffering and it just keeps going on and on and on. This is what Genevieve was talking about, and she was right. We have an opportunity that none of them have to make a difference, any kind of difference. We at least have the opportunity to _try_. We have to take it.”

“And do what?” Finnick asked, his brow furrowed. “What kind of message should we be sending?”

“Whatever message we want,” she said resolutely. “Us. Not the Capitol. Not Snow. It’s what we want. Are you with me?”

He nodded at once, squeezing her hand. “I’m always with you. You don’t have to ask. Now come on.”

And with that, Athena and Finnick left the cave hand in hand, away from safety and towards what they were both certain was destruction.


	10. IX

**IX**

 

On the day of Calypso's first Reaping, Athena threw up twice. Once almost as soon as she woke up and thought about what was ahead, about what might happen, and then again moments before the Reaping began. She had been overwhelmed by the fear and anxiety, and the relief she felt when someone else’s name had been called was almost dizzying (it was a relief that came every year when it was not Calypso who was Reaped, and it was a relief that Athena hated herself for every year when she watched someone young and innocent get sent into the horrors of the arena instead). On the day of the Reaping of the seventy-fifth Hunger Games, the third Quarter Quell, Athena nearly threw up again. She sat hunched over the toilet, retching and retching and retching, but nothing came out. Before long, there was a knock on the door and Calypso was asking her if she was alright, and Athena hastened to say that yes, she was fine, she’d be out in a minute, and made herself stand again.

Breakfast was had in near silence. It felt quite like the final meal before an execution. Athena could barely taste what she was eating, and soon she had to stop in fear of actually throwing up this time. She was just glad to be around her mother and Calypso, glad to have them physically there near her, living and there and breathing, in then out. She barely took her eyes off them, determined to memorise every single detail of them in these final moments. She was terrified she'd forget them, that in what may be her last living moments there would be something about them she could not remember...

They all sat together after breakfast, huddled close together. Calypso's clothes were still rumpled from sleep, and there were a few streaks of steel grey in her mother’s messy hair. It almost hurt to look at them, knowing how soon it’d be before she away from them again... she could already feel their absence so painfully that it almost felt like she was already gone, like she’d never really been there, never been real. In a way, they were the only real things left. She was tainted and scarred and different now, a Capitol doll, and before long she would look like one again. She wondered how they could still recognize her. She wondered how they could still love her. She shifted so that she was closer to the both of them, her head dropping onto her mother’s shoulder, her hand on top of Calypso’s. She didn’t want to think about it just then.

She tore herself away from them with immense difficulty when it was time to prepare for the Reaping. She dressed carefully, in a form-fitting periwinkle blue dress and shoes to match. She adjusted the blue spinel pendant her mother had given her six years ago today, and let her mother come in to do her hair in the same style as always, two braids tied back like a circlet over loose hair. Athena closed her eyes while her mother's fingers worked through her hair skillfully, taking in the comfort that her touch brought. When she felt her hands leave her hair and opened her eyes, her hair was done and Calypso was there, too. She was looking at Athena through the mirror.

“You've always been so beautiful,” she murmured, her eyes shining.

“Come on, Lypso,” Athena said with a weak smile, reaching out to take her face in her hands briefly. “I’ve got nothing on you.”

“You should know,” her mother said suddenly, her hands on her shoulders. “You should know that... no matter where you go... no matter what you do... we're gonna be here, on your side. Waiting for you to come home. We love you no matter what.”

“Yeah, we're on your team until the end,” Calypso said. “We'll always be rooting for you.”

And Athena's throat felt tight, because this felt awfully like goodbye and she was not ready to say goodbye to them yet, but she still managed out, “I love you too.”

She wanted to say something else, something that would make the awfulness of this better for them, but she was at a loss at how to do that when she couldn't even make any of this better for herself. She was being torn away from them, this time perhaps for good, she likely only had a few weeks left to live and it'd be trapped in another arena, away from them, while they watched her die. She had no idea how to minimize that, how to make the weight of that any smaller.

A knock on the door brought her back to reality. It was Finnick, dressed in a soft white sweater with his hair in its perfected artfully messy style. The look he gave her when he saw her at the door was almost apologetic, like he knew exactly what he was taking her away from.

“It's time to go,” Finnick said. “We all have to be at the Justice Building early.”

Which, of course, Athena already knew. Typically, only Athena and Finnick would have to be at the Justice Building early, but this year it was required that all victors were there ahead of time to ensure everyone was clear on the proceedings of the ceremony. Usually victors that weren't mentors would stand on an elevated platform that set them apart from other citizens, making it easier for the camera to cut to shots of them throughout the Reaping, but this year every living victor would be standing on that stage. It made it easier for the tributes to step forward, and also showed more clearly just who the potential tributes were, since it was a significantly smaller amount of people than usual.

She knew already that this had to happen. She just wished it made her feel any better about it.

Athena nodded at him, before turning to her mother and sister. She felt as though something was clawing at her throat, piercing her heart slowly, but she said, to remind herself as much as her mother and Calypso, “I'll see you soon. We still have that hour to say goodbye.”

They both nodded, and Athena followed Finnick outside. They walked close to each other, and Finnick's hand brushed hers, silently asking for permission. She responded immediately, lacing their fingers together.

With his free hand, he signed, “Okay?”

Athena couldn't bring herself to lie, not right then, when she could not shake the feeling that every step she took away from her mother and sister was another mile between them, and she could not lie to Finnick. She shook her head, then signed, “But I know what I have to do. You?”

“About the same,” he signed, squeezing her hand briefly.

Before they could say anything else, they had reached the other victors, who stood waiting for them, all dressed their best. Athena and Finnick released each other’s hands and took a step away from each other as soon as they reached them. They were surrounded by the Peacekeepers that would be escorting them to the Justice Building. Peacekeepers rarely escorted them to the Reaping, but they did not want to take any chances on a day like today. The Peacekeepers immediately flanked them, making them line up, and began the trek to the Justice Building.

The day was more hot and humid than usual, the sun beating down on them as they walked. It was a stifling, suffocating sort of heat, the kind that made it hard to breathe. She was in front of Finnick and behind Mags, she noted as she made herself breathe carefully in and out. None of them said anything (not that they could, with the Peacekeepers breathing down their necks), but it felt nice to be in their presence, the presence of the same people who would have her back in arena.

District Four citizens were all outside, it seemed, but most of the noise that accompanied the Reaping day was gone. There were no teenagers running about, laughing and shouting to each other, there were no snippets of Panem’s national anthem to be heard. There was just the marching of Peacekeepers in twos and threes and fours, and whenever she closed her eyes, Athena could swear she could hear last night’s fireworks, though she wasn’t sure if those were actually fireworks or the cannon that always signaled death. The District Four citizens outside simply watched as the group of victors walked by, flanked on all sides by Peacekeepers, but they were not staring in awe or grinning and waving. There were mournful expressions on their faces, the sort of look you’d have as you watched someone get taken to their execution - which, of course, was what this was.

They entered the Justice Building through the back as per usual, where the Peacekeepers left them at last to receive new orders for the rest of the Reaping. And as per usual, Alayne Stentor, dressed in bright, lime green with a short wig to match, hurried toward them as soon as she saw them, her green stilettos clacking loudly against the hardwood floors.

“There you are!” she said breathlessly as she came to a stop in front of them. “I was worried you’d be late! You all - you all look nice.”

Alayne seemed to have lost the usual spirit she had, especially on Reaping days. She looked almost upset as her eyes swept over them, lingering on Finnick, Mags, and Athena. It had not occurred to her that Alayne might not like this Quarter Quell either, that perhaps the thought of seeing two of them sent back into the arena to die again did not particularly please her. Athena had sort of assumed everyone in the Capitol thought it was great little twist for this exciting time for them and that they were all excited for the drama that it would bring.

"Well,” Alayne said bracingly, making herself perk up again, “let’s move along now, we’ll have to be on stage soon!”

With that, she spun around and led the group to the front of the Justice Building, walking briskly. Athena noticed Annie near the back, a far away look in her eyes as she shuffled forward. Almost instinctively, she hung back until she was by Annie’s side and began walking alongside her.

“Hey,” she said quietly. “Annie, you with me?”

Annie couldn’t even speak. She just nodded her head, but her eyes still seemed miles away. Athena knew Annie enough to know that this state was sometimes what preceded Annie breaking down completely into hysterics, the calm before a storm. The thought of it made her want desperately for Alayne to not draw Annie’s name out of that Reaping ball.

 _If she could just call my name,_ Athena thought to herself. _If she just says my name, it’ll be so much easier..._

Athena shook off the thought and put an arm around Annie’s shoulders, and Annie shifted to walk closer to her at once.

“You’re going to be okay, alright, Annie?” Athena whispered. “You’re not going in there. I promise.”

“You can’t know that,” Annie murmured weakly, her voice so faint it was difficult to make out.. “Not if - not unless you volunteer, and you can’t - Athena, you can’t - you shouldn’t - ”

“Think about it,” Athena pressed on. She couldn’t talk about this with Annie. Not then. “You have a three in four chance of not getting Reaped. That’s pretty decent odds.”

“It won’t be any better if it’s one of you instead,” she replied. “Losing one of you is just as bad.”

And Athena could not say anything to that, because no matter what the outcome of the Games were, at least one of them would not make it out alive. She just squeezed Annie’s shoulders for a moment, and the two of them kept walking until they had reached the doors of the Justice Building that led to the stage that they would all be standing on before long.

Mayor Trenton, dressed in a simple white gown with her dark hair slicked back, stepped forward to address the group at large. “We’re to be on stage in less than five minutes - is everyone ready?”

There was not much to do if they weren’t ready, so they all nodded. The procedure was quite simple. The victors would be split into two groups on stage - the women, who would stand on the left, and the men, who would stand on the right. Within those groups, they’d arrange themselves from youngest to oldest, similar to the way those eligible to be Reaped were arranged during a regular Reaping. From there, they didn’t really have to do anything until Alayne did the drawing, and after that... well, they’d all been through that before. They didn’t need it explained to them again.

She had somehow ended up beside Roman, who was clenching his fists so tightly that she would’ve thought his fingernails would draw blood if she didn’t already know that Roman bit his nails to the nub (she always thought Tatiana, Syrio, Ajax, Leto, and Hestia, the stylists for District Four would lose their minds if they ever saw the state of his nails, and the thought of their reactions sort of amused her, but then it bothered her too much to think about the lot of them having their hands on Roman again, so she always pushed the thought out of her mind). Strands of curly dark hair kept falling in front of his eyes, which he pushed to the side roughly and impatiently with a brown fist, only for the hair to fall right back.

Finally, with a sigh, Athena reached a hand out, but stopped it halfway to his hair, saying, “Can I - ?”

“Go for it,” Roman said at once, and Athena reached up to push his hair back entirely, manipulating some of the strands carefully until they stayed in place. Roman breathed out a sigh. “That’s better.”

Athena just nodded.

“I thought,” he murmured slowly, his brow furrowed, “I thought maybe... maybe I could do it. But now... now that I’m here...”

Athena's gaze flickered over to Finnick, who was standing talking quietly to Mags and Annie. Finnick, who had trained every single day with her for this, who she knew had never, not even for one moment, considered going back on his word to her, who was likely preparing himself in these final moments before the Reaping for what came next.

“You won’t have to worry about that,” she said at last, looking back up at Roman.

“Why not?” Roman said shortly. “How can you know that? How do you know I won't be in there in a week and then I'll - ”

He let out a shaky breath and hung his head. Athena's heart, somehow, sunk even lower, somewhere down to the pit of her stomach. She still didn’t want to tell Roman or anyone else about Athena and Finnick’s plan to volunteer, even now, too worried they’d try to talk them out of it.

“Hey,” she said instead, elbowing him lightly. His eyes wandered up to meet hers. She pushed on his shoulders gently, lifting her chin as she said, “Stand tall. You're gonna be on camera.”

Roman nodded in understanding and fixed his posture immediately. When he stood like that, he was a good inch or two taller than her, even with her heels. For once, she didn’t mind it.

Sure enough, as soon as he had done it, Mayor Trenton was saying sharply, “It’s time. Into places, everyone.”

Almost automatically, the victors split into two groups, men and women, who then arranged themselves into the correct order. The arrangement of the women - Athena, Annie, Lillian, with Mags bringing up the rear - reminded her of how young she actually was. She forgot it often. She didn’t think she liked the reminder. Athena made herself stand taller, pushing her shoulders back and putting on the most dazzling smile she could manage. She couldn’t get it to reach her eyes, though. Not then.

At Mayor Trenton’s signal, they all walked onto the stage. This time, all the spectators of this Reaping were already there (she could see her mother and Calypso near the front, their eyes trained on her; her heart felt like led, but Athena made herself smile reassuringly and nod at them). They walked to applause from the audience, but it was void of all the usual enthusiasm that came with Reapings, halfhearted at best. That might have been from the sombreness that had hung over District Four for a long time now, or the fact that the audience was surrounded entirely by Peacekeepers with guns trained on them, ready to fire at someone who made the slightest misstep. Or it was both.

As always, Mayor Trenton stepped forward to make the same introductory speech she made every year. Athena never really wanted to hear it, but this year it was downright unbearable. She could usually tune it out, stop listening just until the names were drawn, but today she couldn't manage it. She could see Hudson in the back, and something about the sight of her made Athena stand taller as Mayor Trenton began to speak.

“Welcome, welcome, everybody!” Mayor Trenton said, poised and graceful, but unable to muster any real enthusiasm. “This is a day of significance for many reasons... firstly, through the Reaping and the Hunger Games, we commemorate the end of the Dark Days and the beginning of an era of prosperity...”

Athena couldn’t stand to hear any of this, every word grated in her ears, weighed her down more and more, made her feel more trapped in her place, but she couldn’t work out how to tune it out. Her eyes wandered over to Finnick, who was looking at her too. She wanted so badly to be beside him that she surprised herself with feeling, wanted the light and the love and the safety and the warmth that he always brought. But of course, even if they could be together physically, they couldn’t risk showing too much to the cameras...

“This is tired,” he signed subtly. “Haymitch has made better speeches drunk.”

Athena cracked the tiniest smile, the only genuine smile she had managed today. “Including the cat speech?”

He smiled. “ _Especially_ the cat speech.”

Athena breathed the tiniest laugh, but forced herself to look away from him.

“It is both a time for repentance and for thanks,” Mayor Trenton continued. “This is truer than ever this year, as we celebrate our third Quarter Quell. District Four has always been prosperous in many ways, including that we have had many victors over the years.”

As per usual, Mayor Trenton proceeded to list every single one of these victors. There were a lot, which only highlighted how few of them were still present to stand on stage now. Penelope’s and Talisa’s absences were more felt than ever. As per usual, there was cheering after Mayor Trenton listed each name, but there was something different about it this time. The cheers and applause weren’t just celebratory this time; they were encouraging, almost rallying, as though calling them to action. Athena stared ahead hollowly and said nothing.

“Of course,” Mayor Trenton went on, as he finished listening the names, “this year, to celebrate our third Quarter Quell, the tributes that will represent our district will be Reaped from the existing pool of victors. Just as they have all done before, I’m certain our tributes will accept this great honour with grace,” the mayor was saying, and Athena scoffed silently at that, felt tears stinging her eyes, and blinked them back immediately, “and bring pride to our district once again.

“And now may I introduce our esteemed Capitol escort, Alayne Stentor, for the drawing!”

Mayor Trenton stepped aside as soon as she was finished, allowing for Alayne to step forward. The crowd received her with the typical polite applause. They wouldn’t dare give anything less to a Capitol socialite held in high regard like Alayne, especially not now.

“Welcome, welcome,” Alayne said in a very put-on show of enthusiasm, while Athena thought about how the situation really must be dire if Alayne could not maintain her usual bright, bubbly demeanor. “Welcome to the Reaping of the seventy-fifth annual Hunger Games and third Quarter Quell! It is my great pleasure to be back in District Four at this wonderful time of year! Let us all take a moment to celebrate seventy-five years of the Hunger Games!” Applause again, very clearly out of obligation, barely lasting longer than a handful of seconds. “And now, without any further ado, let the Reaping begin.”

Finnick caught her eye and mouthed, “Finally,” and her lips almost twitched upwards in a smile.

“Happy Hunger Games, and... may the odds be ever in your favour,” Alayne said, clearly trying her best to charge onwards. She cast a look that was disconsolate and almost apologetic at the female victors, before she turned back to the audience and said, “As always... ladies first.”

As Alayne approached the glass ball that held the names of the female victors, Athena’s eyes found Mags, then Finnick, whose eyes were already trained on her. They were giving her a look that asked not if she wanted to go back, but simply for confirmation. She nodded subtly, and it appeared that was all they needed. Athena was painfully aware of her mother and Calypso near the front, but she could not bring herself to look at them. She was failing them, failing them, failing them -

Alayne reached down into the glass ball, swirling around the ballots, though the effect of it was lost when there was only four names as opposed to the typical hundreds, so it wasn’t long until she was simply pulling out a ballot and announcing into the microphone, “The female tribute for District Four is none other than... Annie Cresta.”

And Athena was already stepping forward, opening her mouth to say she was going to volunteer, but the action was cut off by the sound of a wail. Athena turned to see Annie clapping her hand to her mouth, but she was shaking and beginning to sob and here it was, the quiet had passed and the storm had come to break her down, and if it didn’t pass soon there was no telling the damage it would cause.

Athena was quick to act, raising a hand and saying, “I volunteer.” Annie looked over at her, alarmed, shaking her head frantically, but Athena pressed forward regardless. “I volunteer as tribute.”

Annie moved her hand from her mouth to grab Athena’s arm, whispering desperately, “Athena - no - don’t - ”

“You can’t stop me,” Athena said, as steadily as she could. “It’s already decided.”

And with that, she pulled Annie to her in a tight hug. Annie clutched onto her tightly, her entire body shaking. Athena ran a hand through her hair, murmuring, “It’s alright. You’re safe, you’re gonna be alright.”

“What about you?” she said shakily. “What about you?”

“I’ll be fine,” Athena said automatically. “You know me. I’ll be fine. I'm always fine.” They pulled away from each other, and Athena held her at arm’s length. “Okay? I’ll be fine.”

Annie nodded, but she was still crying. Both Finnick and Mags broke ranks to console her with Athena. For a moment, Athena wasn’t worried about the cameras. After all, the Capitol would think nothing of this. They would just say it was poor, poor Annie Cresta acting up again, and Athena, Finnick, and Mags were so nice for helping her... that was all they would make of this, since that was all they had ever made of Annie and what they did to her.

“I,” Alayne said, sounding uncertain. “I - uh - really, we need to get back to the ceremony - ”

And even the Peacekeepers were stepping forward to break them up, when Mayor Trenton spoke.

“Oh, for God’s sake, just leave them be,” the mayor blurted out unexpectedly, utterly surprising Athena. “Just let them have this... let them have this one thing...”

The Peacekeepers seemed at a loss, clearly not expecting this command, but fell back. For a split second, all Athena could do was stare at Mayor Trenton, stunned she’d say such a thing. Even the mayor herself seemed a little surprised by her words. Athena turned her attention back to Annie, though, but Annie was calming down again before long.

“Okay?” Athena said quietly, taking her arm briefly, though she already knew the answer.

Annie knew the real answer too, but she still nodded.

“We’ve still got the hour,” Finnick murmured to her. “We can still say goodbye. We have some time.”

Annie just nodded. Mags pulled her back to stand with Lillian, but before she did, she took Athena’s hand, squeezing it lightly and nodding at her. Athena nodded back at Mags, before she walked over to stand at Alayne’s side, now officially the female tribute.

“Very well, then!” Alayne said bracingly. “And now for the men!”

Athena’s eyes flickered over to Finnick again, but she made herself look ahead just as quickly, putting on the small, haughty smile that always worked in times like this where she couldn’t manage a real smile. For a split second she thought she was crying, but when she felt her face, it was quite dry.

Alayne walked over to the second glass ball, stuck her hand in it, and swirled around the small amount of ballots for a time, before pulling out one of the four ballots.

“The male tribute,” Alayne said, looking at the ballot, “is Murphy Arn - ”

Finnick was even quicker to volunteer than Athena. Alayne, really only trying to save face and follow procedures at this point, didn't even have the chance to finish saying Murphy's name before he was stepping forward, raising a hand and declaring quite calmly, “I volunteer as tribute.”

Murphy grabbed his arm. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Yes, I do,” Finnick said firmly, freeing his arm from Murphy’s grasp.

Murphy studied Finnick for a moment, glanced momentarily at Athena, and said nothing more. Finnick moved to stand on Alayne’s other side, and just like that, it was done. Athena and Finnick were the District Four tributes for the third Quarter Quell. It was done. There was no turning back now.

“And there you are!” Alayne said, with a forced smile, as a young boy and girl walked up from opposite ends of the stage to hand Athena and Finnick each a bouquet of white roses. All she saw in the flowers was President Snow, and the sight and the smell of it made nausea rise up her throat. “Your male and female tributes for the seventy-fifth Hunger Games!”

Somehow, the applause felt like a miserable, mournful sound. When it ceased, Athena could hear Annie breathing unevenly, sniffling. She couldn’t bring herself to look back, not then. The Peacekeepers were standing right by her and Finnick; she had a feeling if she tried to console Annie again, they’d hold her back no matter what the mayor said. Athena just stared ahead of her, hoping her smile wasn’t as vacant as she felt.

Mayor Trenton stepped forward, taking Alayne’s place to read the long, dull Treaty of Treason, just as she did every year. Athena was not listening to a word of it. Though she had been trying to avoid looking at them, her eyes had found her mother and sister of their own accord, and now she could not look away. They were staring at her too. The worst part was that they didn’t even look like they hated her or were angry or even disappointed with her. They knew she would do it and had accepted it. She was failing them, and now she would be away from them, and she wasn’t sure she’d ever see them again...

Mayor Trenton finished reading off the Treaty and said, taking a step back and motioning for them to shake hands “Without further ado... tributes - ”

Athena and Finnick turned to face each other slowly. He put on a good act, but she knew him well enough to know that he was afraid - terrified, even. Still, when he looked at her, he straightened up and his face was set with determination. She reached out his hand and he took it, and she felt a moment of relief as his warm, large hand took hers and they shook hands. They lingered for a moment afterwards, their hands still joined together, and Athena was going to pull away, but Finnick surprised her, pulling her to him into a hug. He wrapped his arms around her tightly, and Athena only froze for a moment, before hugging him back, burying her head in his chest and breathing him in, letting out a shaky breath.

He buried his head in her hair, most likely to cover his mouth as he whispered to her, “That’s phase one done. Now for the rest of it.”

“This was the easy part,” Athena murmured. “Which is shit news for us.”

“What else is new?” he replied. A pause, before he was murmuring, “We should stop now. Any longer and they won’t think of this as a platonic hug.”

Athena nodded, and they pulled away from each other. She held her head high, making herself smile again. They turned back to the crowd, and, in unison, joined hands with each other and raised them above their heads. The most enthusiastic applause of the ceremony started up at that; usually, it just came from a sentiment of pride for their district, but today, it was more than that. Again, it felt like a rallying call to action, stronger than before. A cry for them to do them justice, not in the way the Capitol spoke of bringing pride to their home district by being a tribute, but real justice. It reminded her of her and Finnick’s agreement to use this Quarter Quell to send a message. One glance at Finnick told her he was thinking the same thing.

As soon as they let go and moved away from each other, the national anthem of Panem began to play, signifying the end of the Reaping. Peacekeepers grabbed onto them immediately, even more roughly than usual, marching them into the Justice Building. However, instead of conducting them into the separate rooms to say their goodbyes, they were ushered roughly towards the back door instead.

“What’s going on?” Athena demanded, trying fruitlessly to pry herself free of their grasp. “Where are we going? We still have to say our goodbyes.”

“New procedure,” one of the Peacekeepers sneered. “Straight to the train.”

"What?” Athena said, alarmed, now thrashing against their grip. They couldn’t take this time from her, they couldn’t take what might be her last hour with her mother and sister... “What do you mean?”

“Hey, come on,” Finnick said fiercely. “We get time to say goodbye - it’s always been that way - ”

“Things change,” said another Peacekeeper.

Just then, Calypso and Athena’s mother came into the room through the back door, followed shortly by Hudson and Sirena, evidently here to say their goodbyes. At the same time, the victors who were not Reaped were filing into the Justice Building to find the scene in front of them. Mags and Alayne were also being pushed forward, albeit a little less roughly, by Peacekeepers.

“What’s going on?” Athena’s mother frowned, looking anxious.

“ _You four_ have to leave,” the first Peacekeeper said shortly, “and _they’re_ going straight to the train.”

As they said it, Athena and Finnick were pushed roughly past her mother and sister, and Athena tried to reach out to them, still fighting against them desperately, but she was yanked away. Calypso tried to run towards her older sister but immediately found her path barred by two other Peacekeepers.

“You can’t do this,” Calypso burst out, and even from the distance Athena could see tears forming in her eyes. “She’s my sister!”

Sirena was pushing her way through the crowd to get to Calypso, wrapping an arm around her comfortingly. Her mother stood beside them, her lips pressed together tightly as she blinked back tears. The other victors stood some distance behind them, stunned and desolate. They were the last things Athena saw before she and Finnick were all but pushed out the back door and shoved into the cramped car. Then, in what seemed to be a flurry of noise and movement and camera flashes, Athena was on the train with the others, the door was sliding shut in her face, and the train was moving at breath-taking speed immediately, taking her away from her home, away from her mother and sister, away from Annie and Roman and Hudson and Lillian and Noah and Murphy, with all her goodbyes still left on her lips.


	11. X

“Come on.”

It was Finnick’s voice speaking to her, trying to reach out to her. It sounded a million miles away, but Athena could recognize his voice in any situation. She was certain it was him.

Athena was still standing right by the door of the train, staring unseeingly ahead of her as the train carried them out of District Four at top speed. She felt frozen, unable to move or tear her eyes away from the sight. Finnick, standing close behind her, was trying to coax her away and she was pretty sure had been for some time now.

“Athena, come on.”

The train kept moving, bringing them farther and farther away from home. It felt like District Four was flying past her. They were gone. _She_ was gone. She was gone and she’d likely never return, likely never see them again. She felt her eyes sting, found it hard to breathe, and felt a sharp ache in her chest that was spreading further and further until it was all over her body.

“Athena, come on,” Finnick said again, moving to stand closer to her and placing his hand on her shoulder gently. “Come on.”

He moved his hand so that it was at her waist and guided her gently away from the door. She let him lead her away, past Mags and Alayne, to his chambers. She walked forward numbly until she reached his bed. As soon as she sat down on the bed, she broke down into sobs. She could not help it, it felt like it was all spilling over the surface like a tidal wave and she could do nothing to stop it, sobs wracking her body. It all felt too much for her to bear, she felt too small for any of this, too small to be able to go on. She didn’t think she could contain all this grief and all this fear; it all seemed to pour out of her with every tear and every sob, but somehow still left more of it behind in its wake. Finnick, who had been closing the door behind them, turned around immediately at the noise and rushed to her at once.

“Come here,” Finnick murmured, sitting next to her and putting an arm around her. “Come here, my love, come here.”

She leaned into him at once, weeping into his shoulder, her fingers moving to clutch onto the front of his sweater. He wrapped his arms around her tightly, pulling her into the warmth of his body, one of his hands going up to play with her hair comfortingly.

“I didn't even get to say goodbye,” she sobbed. “I didn't even get to say goodbye... and now they're gone and I'll never - ”

She cut herself off abruptly, unable to even finish the thought aloud. Finnick seemed to know what she was thinking at once, though.

“Don't think like that,” he said, drawing her nearer to him, running his hand up and down her arms lightly, soothingly. “We'll make this work. We'll figure something out.”

She just shook her head, holding onto him tighter as she let out another sob. It felt like she was sobbing not only because of the lost goodbyes to the ones she cared about, but because the reality of their situation was sinking in for her now. They were officially going into the arena, where they would be facing off against all-experienced killers, and the likelihood of her seeing the other side was slim. Whatever chance at peace she had, whatever chance at a full life she had, they were long gone now.

She lost track of time fast, but it seemed an eternity passed before she stopped crying, her sobs ceasing and her body steadying and her eyes drying. She shifted so that her head was on Finnick's shoulder, and he placed his head on top of hers. He stretched his hand out to her and she took it at once, intertwining their fingers and holding onto it tightly. As her own breathing became more even and regular, Athena could hear Finnick’s; steady and even and deep - despite everything. It occurred to her at once that he was only pretending to be okay for her sake, and at once, she felt terrible. She was not the only who had left people she cared about behind, after all.

“I'm sorry,” she said weakly. “I'm acting like it’s only me who’s affected by this - ”

“Don't be sorry,” he said at once. “I just want you to be okay. I'm here for you as long as you want me here.”

Athena smiled weakly, leaning forward and kissing him quickly, lingering there, brushing his lips gently with hers. His hand went to the back of her neck, keeping her there as he kissed her back gently. They pulled away before long, and Athena placed her head on his shoulder again.

Before long, there was a knock on the door. Athena lifted her head immediately, and the two of them inched away from each other as Finnick called, “Come in.”

The door slid open to reveal that it was only Mags, who was making her slow way over to the bed with the aid of the cane she used at all times now. Since it was only Mags, Athena and Finnick moved closer to each other again, Athena laying her head on his shoulder again. Finnick wrapped an arm around her waist. Athena reached her hand out to Mags as she moved to sit beside her, helping her settle into the spot beside Athena. They kept their hands joined together, Mags’ wrinkled ones on top of hers.

“Okay?” Mags signed with her free hand.

Athena gave her a watery smile, squeezing her hand and nodding her head. “Yeah. Okay.”

Mags nodded. She was silent for a moment, before saying, out loud, in a low, rough voice, “It won’t be the last time you see them. It’s what I’m here to make sure of.”

Athena straightened up, staring at Mags in surprise. This was the first time Athena had heard her speak since before the announcement about the theme of the Quarter Quell. She glanced over at Finnick, and from the look on his face, this was the first time he was hearing her speak since then, too.

“Oh, don't be so surprised,” Mags said. Her voice was quiet, even hoarser than usual, rough from months without use. Athena had to strain a little to understand her. “I’d have to start talking again sooner than later, if I want to protect the two of you.”

Athena gave a small smile, the gratitude she felt towards Mags great. She knew it took a lot of strength for Mags to bring herself to start speaking again, and she was doing it for them. Athena squeezed her hand again, saying, “Thank you, Mags. Truly.”

“Yeah,” Finnick said, “the fact that you're helping us after years of not mentoring means -”

But Mags was shaking her head, saying, “Was never a question. You two are family. I'll protect you as long as I have to.”

At that moment, there was another knock on the door. Knowing that it must be Alayne, Athena and Finnick detached from each other, before the latter called for her to come in. Alayne strode into the room, though she stopped short after two long strides, taking in the scene before her.

“What is it?” Finnick asked. “I thought we still had time before supper.”

“We do,” Alayne replied. “I only meant to check on my two tributes. Athena, you seemed awfully... disturbed earlier.”

Athena simply stared at her. She was suddenly glad she had stopped crying, and that she hadn’t started until she and Finnick were somewhere private; the idea of Alayne seeing her in such a state bothered her.

“I wonder why,” she finally said flatly.

Alayne stiffened a little at that, but said, “Well, I’m glad you’ve moved past it. It’ll do you no good, you know. It's best to accept it and move on. There are more important things to put your focus on.”

“You think so?” Athena said in a low, tense voice. “And you'd know all about that, wouldn't you? I mean, you’ve got all sorts of personal experience with this, right? Not that you’ve ever been in this position. But still. You’re the expert.”

“I don’t know what you mean - ” Alayne began, lifting her chin slightly.

Athena stood and took a few steps forward, ignoring Mags calling her back, and said, “No. You wouldn’t. That’s kind of the point.” She drew herself up to her full height; she was still shorter than Alayne due to her stilettos, but Alayne still seemed to shrink back. Athena didn’t fully understand why; it wasn’t like she could really do anything to her. Athena was still just a girl from the districts and Alayne was still a woman from the Capitol, at the end of the day. “So, maybe - just maybe - don’t try talking to me like you’re the expert on something you’ll _never_ know.”

And with that, Athena walked around Athena and strode out of the room. She was going to head for her chambers, but decided against it; she’d be easy to find there. She didn’t want people to find her so fast. She opted instead to go to the last car of the train; it was one of her favourite spots on the train. There were chairs and couches to sit on, but the reason she liked it was the back windows that retracted into the ceiling and provided a wide, sweep of the landscape, allowing her to really take in the scenery.

She all but collapsed onto one of the sofas, swinging her legs onto it so that she could hug her knees to her chest. She stared out at the view of a wide, open, grassy field that the window provided, letting out a sigh. She was already regretting her behaviour. Certainly, Alayne’s comments had been tone deaf and thoughtless, but no more so than anything than Alayne typically said, and Athena could, at least for the most part, hold her tongue during those times. All at once, she felt awfully stupid and foolish over her behaviour; sobbing the way she had over not getting to say her goodbyes, snapping at Alayne... shame and embarrassment overwhelmed her, suddenly feeling quite like a child.

She took the braids out of her hair, running her hands through it. She held her head in his hands, breathing deeply in, then out. “Get it together. You won’t last a fucking day in the arena like this.”

Though she had been doubting more and more with time that she’d last long in the arena either way. So much of her success in her Games had been based on luck, and it was a Quarter Quell this year, which meant none of the other tributes would be leaving anything to chance. She felt far too broken and far too small to be able to do any of it, especially with her determination to avoid killing at all costs. All she really thought she could do was protect Finnick as long as she could, but even then, she didn’t think that would be very long... the hopelessness and helplessness she felt at it all seemed to be a physical thing, suffocating her.

She gave her head a slight shake, trying to focus on the scenery before her. It was a beautiful sight, all the greenery with flowers in full bloom. Depending on what the arena was, it would probably be the last time Athena saw anything like this, since in the Capitol, it was tall buildings and roads and cars and bright lights all around... suddenly, she wished she brought her sketchbook. At the very least, focusing on drawing the scene would distract her from the fact that with every inch this train moved it was further away from her home and many of the people she cared about. She was just about to grab the sketchbook that was kept for her in her chambers when she heard the doors slide open.

She let out a sigh and said, “Alayne, I’m sorry. I know you’re just doing your job and that none of this is is your fault, it’s just - ”

“Not Alayne,” came a different voice, and she turned to see Finnick approaching her instead. “But do keep apologizing. It’s such a rare occurrence, I’m kind of enjoying it.”

“Very funny,” she said sarcastically, shaking her head and turning to look out the window again, though she lowered her feet from the sofa so that he had room to sit next to her.

“I usually am,” he agreed, sitting down beside her, settling his gaze on her instead of the view the window provided. “But I don’t think you need to apologize to Alayne for anything, though you probably didn’t have to go at her like that, either.”

“I know I didn’t,” she said wearily, sighing. “I don’t even know why I did - I'm being so stupid - ”

“I know why,” Finnick said matter-of-factly.

“Really?” she said disbelievingly, raising her eyebrows, and when he simply nodded, said, “Are you going to say why, or are you just going to sit there looking all superior?”

“You didn’t get to react to any of this,” Finnick finally said. “You were too busy checking to see how everyone else was reacting, and then trying to protect everyone else, and now you’re here and you’re finally reacting. You’re not being stupid at all.”

“That makes one of us who thinks so,” was all she said, though she knew he had a point. “What’s Alayne saying?”

“That she _doesn't understand why that young lady always has to act up_.”

Athena smiled, letting out a laugh at the accurate impression of Alayne’s voice and her Capitol accent. “And Mags?”

Finnick shrugged. “It's Mags. Doesn't say much, understands everything.”

“Ah,” Athena said in understanding, nodding once. “Should've known.” There was a pause. Athena’s gaze wandered over to Finnick, studying him for a moment, before saying, “And what about you?”

He looked at her in confusion. “What about me? I already said I don’t think you need to apologize - ”

“Not that,” she said quickly. “I mean... did you get to react to this?”

“I had a moment,” he nodded. “Right after the announcement. You pulled me back out as soon as I saw you, though. See, you never really got to have the moment to be pulled out of it. Now’s your turn.”

 _And you’re pulling me back out_ , Athena thought. _Or, at least, you’re helping._

She didn’t say it out loud, though. Something told her she didn’t need to do it. Silence fell between them. Athena looked back out the window again, at the green landscape zooming past. Finally, she said what she had been thinking for months now.

“I'm going to die in the arena, Finnick,” she said in resignation. “I am. I want you to make it out of there more than anything. Besides, my first Games I got by a lot from luck, and these Games are going to be different, it's going to be all victors. The only way I survive in a situation like that is if I become the person I was at the beginning of my first Games again, and I don’t... I don’t know if I can do that again. I may have the physical capability, but I don’t know if I have that in me.”

“No, you're not,” he said, then moved closer to her to take her face in his hands. “You're not going to die in there, Athena, do you hear me? I will do _anything_ that it takes to get you out of there alive. I'm telling you, you don't have to do this alone. Not this time, not ever again. I'll be there. We'll do this together.”

“Finnick - ” she began, a little wearily.

“No!” he insisted. “No! You're not - you're not dying in there, Athena, you’re not. We'll find a way out of this, okay? Just please don't - don't give up, okay?”

Athena simply stared at him for a time. He really did mean it; he would do whatever he could, fight tooth and nail to help her get through this arena. The least she could do is be just as much of a fighter in that sense. And she owed as much to her mother and Calypso, to Annie and Roman and Hudson and her fellow victors back home; they were waiting for her and Finnick. At the very least, for their sakes, she could not give up on herself.

“Okay,” she said at last, smiling weakly, moving to place her hand on top of where his rested on her cheek.

“Okay,” Finnick said again, smiling back.

He kissed her forehead, then her nose, then met her halfway to kiss her lips. She practically melted into him, bringing her hands to his hair and threading her fingers through it. The scent of mint and the ocean radiated off of him, drawing her closer to the warmth of his body. Finnick pulled away briefly, and Athena already missed his lips, but then he was trailing kisses along her jaw, and she was letting out contented little sighs that made him smile against her skin. She never wanted to leave this, never wanted to leave _him_ , never wanted -

The sound of the doors sliding open snapped them both from their stupor. They broke apart and turned to see Alayne standing frozen at the door. They had pulled away from each other, but were still far too close to have been doing anything but exactly what they were doing.

“I... came to inform you that supper is in ten minutes,” said Alayne, more flustered and more speechless than Athena had seen her in a long time, “as is my duty as your escort. It seems you were both busy enough as it is, however.”

Athena rushed to her feet. She wasn’t really sure why, but it felt right to be standing at a time like this.

“I - Alayne, I - I’m sorry,” she said hastily. “I - my behaviour was inappropriate - it was wrong - and I’m sorry.”

“Exactly what behaviour are you referring to?” Finnick mumbled, so quiet only Athena could hear, looking up between her and Alayne, his hair sticking out a little too much for the situation. Athena nudged him subtly and didn’t reply.

“Never mind your behaviour, Athena,” Alayne said stiffly. “I think I’ll go now.”

And before Athena or Finnick could do anything, Alayne hurried back out of the room. Finnick rose to his feet slowly, turning to face her. She hadn’t noticed it a moment before, but his whole body was tense, wearing a grave expression on his face.

“That could be very bad, Athena,” Finnick murmured. “Alayne seeing us could be very bad. If she tells one of her Capitol friends about it and they spread the word and then the whole goddamn Capitol knows that I’m in love with you and not any of them - ”

“You don’t have to tell me,” Athena said, looking up at him grimly. “God, we should’ve been more careful.”

“It’s too late for that now,” Finnick shook his head. “I should go talk to her - ”

He moved to follow Alayne out of the room, but Athena grabbed his arm to stop him. “No. I should take care of this.”

Finnick paused, hesitant, before nodding. Athena took a deep breath, as though about to attempt some impossible task, before walking out the door in search of Alayne. She wasn’t very difficult to find. Alayne was sitting on one of the sofas a few cars away when Athena found her, gazing out the window across from her. She tore her gaze away from the window at the sound of Athena’s footsteps.

“Oh, you,” Alayne said shortly in greeting.

“Yeah,” Athena agreed, “me.”

Alayne said nothing further, and for a moment, Athena just stood there silently, rather awkward. This was a lot more difficult than Athena anticipated, and she hadn’t expected for it to be easy. For a moment, she wondered whether it really should have been Finnick to talk to Alayne. Athena had her moments, certainly, but Finnick was much better at all of this, better at charming people, making them do what he wanted, and Alayne had always liked Finnick better, anyway.

But no, a part of her knew that she was the one that needed to talk to Alayne right now, so she shuffled a few steps forward and said, “Is it alright if I sit?”

“Well, as I’ve always said, this is all for you,” Alayne said tightly. “So, feel free.”

It wasn’t really a yes, but it would have to do, so Athena sat down a safe distance away from Alayne. They glanced at each other, before in unison, turning to watch the scenery pass them by through the window.

Figuring she needed to say something soon, Athena said, “Look, about Finnick - ”

However, at the exact same moment, Alayne said, “How could you two be so stupid?

“I - you - what?” Athena blustered out.

“Now, I know there was always something going on between you two, but to go _parading_ around about it, and to bring it to the Capitol - at a time like _this_ \- I thought you were both wiser than that.”

“Wait - you - you knew?” Athena said, stunned.

“Well, of course I knew!” Alayne said impatiently. “I always knew! I knew it from the moment you two met, even if _you_ didn't. You weren't exactly _subtle_ , staring at him every chance you got - ”

“I didn't stare -” Athena mumbled.

“Yes, you did,” said Alayne in a formidable sort of way that Athena did not associate with the slightly shrill sounding Capitol escort. “And he was no better, sneaking you up to the roof every night and abandoning all sense of personal space. And he was never quite as... _enthusiastic_ with his lovers in the Capitol as he was with you. Make no mistake, no matter how stupid you think I am, I saw exactly what was going on there.”

“I - I don't think you're - “ Athena began, but it didn't come across as remotely genuine; maybe Athena hadn’t thought that Alayne was _stupid_ , but she certainly never thought she was this perceptive, either.

“Don't lie to me,” Alayne snapped. “Now, even though I saw what was happening, I thought that you two would have the good sense to keep it to yourselves and never actually _do_ anything with it. Evidently, I was wrong. I just want to know what on _earth_ you're thinking.”

Athena blinked. This wasn't where she was expecting the conversation to go at all.

“Well, I - I love him,” Athena finally said, rather lamely. “And I think he loves me, and we've held back for six years - ”

“Well, of course you love each other!” Alayne said, exasperated. “But that didn't stop you from losing all sense before! Why now? What if his lovers in the Capitol find out?”

“I - you won't tell them, will you?” Athena said nervously.

“Of course not!” Alayne said, shocked. “That would break their hearts! And I know you think I want to do you harm, but I don’t.”

Athena let out a breath. As long as Alayne didn't talk, then the situation was under control.

“Then they won't find out,” she said. “Finnick and I have talked about this, we're going to keep this a secret. This was a one-time mistake.”

“You better hope it is,” Alayne said. “If you two aren't more careful, the rumours that might get spread around won't be good for you.”

Athena could sense a threat in those words, but she also might have been paranoid, so she said nothing. If it was a threat, at least she knew what needed to be done. Besides, it wasn't as though Alayne was the only one who didn't want her to openly be with the one she loved. This was nothing new.

“Now, _if_ you don't mind,” Alayne said, “I think I'll leave now.”

Her words and tone left a heavy implication that she was not to be followed. With that, she strode out of the room, leaving Athena sitting alone. Athena simply sat there for a long time, staring ahead of her blankly, still reeling over the conversation with Alayne that seemed to have gone everywhere _but_ the place she had been expecting it to go. Finally, she realized that if she didn’t show up to supper soon someone would send for her, so she got to her feet and walked over to the dining car.

Everyone else was already at the table when she arrived. Alayne was sitting across from Finnick, and Mags was sitting beside Alayne, which left nowhere for Athena to sit but beside Finnick, which felt rather unfortunate considering that she had just been caught kissing Finnick by Alayne and told her they’d keep their distance. Still, there was no other choice, so as casually as she could manage, she sat down next to Finnick.

“Um,” she said, “sorry I’m late.”

“It’s no problem, Athena,” Alayne chirped, but there was a layer of tenseness under the surface. “These things happen.”

Athena cleared her throat awkwardly and nodded, forcing a small smile. Finnick looked between them, a little apprehensively. Mags looked around at all of them, seemed to understand exactly what was going on, but said nothing. Athena was a little relieved when the food was served to distract them. They were all quick to dig into the piles of rich, delicious food. For a time, none of them talked, all of them eating in silence.

Finnick caught her eye for a split second and signed under the table, “So? How did it go?”

But Athena gave a small, subtle shake of her head, her message clear: “Not now. Not here.”

He nodded once and pressed the subject no more.

As they were finishing up dessert, Alayne broke the mostly silence of the dinner, saying, a little stiffly, “I suppose it’d be a little silly for me to ask if you two will be coached separately or together?”

“Yes,” Athena, Finnick, and Mags all said in unison.

“Well, then,” Alayne said, “it’s good to know these things ahead of time. Shall we watch the recap of the Reaping?”

Athena, Finnick, and Mags all murmured their assent, so the group of four trooped to the compartment with the television.

“I trust you’ve been doing the homework I sent you?” Alayne asked, as they tuned into the recap of the Reaping, referring, of course, to the tapes of every living victor and the tapes for the other two Quarter Quells that she had sent to them in preparation for this Quell. “You did ask for it.”

“Every night, Alayne,” Finnick said with a nod.

It was then that the recap began, so they all became silent to watch carefully. They were all familiar with this set of tributes simply due to the fact that all victors knew each other, but Athena was instantly glad that they’d spent so much time studying all the tapes about them, since it made them much more familiar with the people who were now officially their competition in these Games. From District One, there was Cashmere and Gloss Valour, a brother-sister duo who had won back-to-back Games, Capitol favourites who were known to have been lethal in their respective arenas. As far as Athena knew, they really didn’t try to connect with any of the other victors, but they had always been polite but cool with her. Cashmere was another victor who had their body sold to the Capitol; every victor knew who in their number was forced to endure it. From District Two, there was Brutus Oreta and Enobaria Quartz, Capitol favourites who were known to be even more vicious and deadly than the tributes of District One. Enobaria, in particular, became famous for ripping her enemies’ throats out with her teeth, and as such had gotten her teeth sharpened into fangs inlaid with gold. There was no warmth between Athena and either of the District Two tributes; Brutus and Enobaria seemed to think very little of Athena and her abilities, and their bloodthirsty ways made Athena sick. Any attempts they made to strike a friendship with Finnick was usually met with a cool, subtly dismissive response from Finnick. There was Wiress Huxley and Beetee Latier from District Three; kind people, both of them, though more than a little eccentric, particularly Wiress. Neither of them were fighters; Beetee, who was made to design a lot of the technology for the Capitol, was famous for winning his Games by electrocuting six people at once. This, coupled with Wiress’ odd behaviour from her deteriorating mental state that was often taken simply for madness, earned Wiress and Beetee the nicknames Nuts and Volts. They would be underestimated, but Athena knew their intelligence was not something to overlook.

There was nothing but positive comments from the commentators about the District Four Reaping. They noted that it was odd that Athena was volunteering, since she was not a volunteer in her first Games, but other than that, gave Athena and Finnick nothing but praise, even calling their hug a heartwarming moment, which let them know they hadn’t crossed any lines publicly yet. Alayne tisked at that part of the commentary, but said nothing, and Athena knew that was all they could really ask for at that point. She just made herself feel glad that things were looking good for them in terms of sponsors and tried to ignore how empty she looked on screen.

District Five’s tributes were Wyatt Edison and Vida Foster. Wyatt was a dark-haired, dark-eyed man in his early thirties now; it was evident he wasn’t in the best physical condition, but it wasn’t his physical abilities that brought him to victory the first time around so much as his good looks and charms that brought him Capitol favour, and his intelligence. He was still a threat. Vida’s physical and mental states had deteriorated so much over the years; it was a horrible thing to see, but it made it clear at once that she would not be a threat.

The tributes of District Six, Apollo Byke and Casey Turbo, were known as the morphlings; they had won their Games essentially by hiding until everyone else was dead, and had been self-medicating on morphling ever since, earning them their nickname. They were another two people that Athena knew at once would not be a threat. From District Seven was Blight Aspen and Johanna Mason. Blight was a kind and well-meaning man, but he was twitchy and slow to act, weaknesses that would be easy to exploit. Athena and Finnick both knew Johanna much better than Blight; Johanna was the winner of the seventy-first Hunger Games, and essentially won her Games by pretending to be weak and innocent so that people would let their guard down around her, giving her the perfect opportunity to strike and prove herself to be a deadly, formidable foe indeed. Athena and Finnick had met Johanna when she visited District Four for her Victory Tour and had formed a close friendship with her, despite the fact that Johanna’s tendency to be rather rude and insensitive and blunt to a fault. It was often what Athena and Finnick both liked about her, viewing her rather like a little sister (despite Johanna’s protests about that). It upset Athena to see Johanna Reaped, though it was expected as District Seven’s only living female victor; Johanna didn’t like talking about it or admitting it, but her Games had had horrible consequences on her as it was. Johanna had always reminded her a bit of Amber Cedara, a girl from District Seven she had once known in the middle of a desert city torn apart from a war that had long since passed. It hurt to think about sometimes, since Johanna would remind her of the future Amber did not have, so she tried to avoid dwelling on it.

District Eight’s tributes were Woof Twyla and Cecilia Flax. Woof had been sharp and strong in his day, but he was in his seventies now, hard of hearing with a waning ability to focus, which meant he was decidedly not a threat. He was a kind man, loyal to his own; a good man who did not deserve anything like this in his last moments... Cecilia was much younger, about thirty, but watching her get Reaped tore at her as much as watching Woof. It was the sight of her children that tore at Athena the most, none of them any older than five, clinging onto her when her name was called, not wanting to let her go...

From District Nine, there was Harvey Barric and Arya Barley. Harvey was in his late forties, streaks of grey in his hair. He was relatively closed off, which meant nobody knew too much about him, but he had won his Games based off his strength and his charm. Despite being much older now, he was someone to keep an eye on. Arya was a sweet, funny short woman in her early fifties whose abilities to strategize were ultimately what brought her to victory during her Games; assuming she still had her wits about her, she could very well be someone to watch out for. District Ten’s tributes, Buck Sable and Merona Nox, were still relatively young and strong, and were good-looking enough to draw attention from potential sponsors, but not the sharpest or most strategic people Athena had ever met; still, they were not people to overlook. District Eleven’s tributes were Seeder Whent and Chaff Spud. The former was in her sixties while the latter was in her forties, but they were still in decent shape and clever to boot. They were good people too, having always been warm to her, funny and perhaps a little too affectionate and somehow capable of maintaining a certain liveliness.

And then there were the tributes of District Twelve, Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark. District Twelve’s tributes had not changed between the seventy-fourth and seventy-fifth Hunger Games. This was unavoidable for the female tribute, since Katniss was District Twelve’s only female victor. Her chest tightened painfully at the sight of Katniss, who seemed to know she had no choice in this matter, on the stage; she was not much older than Calypso, she had done all she could think of to please Snow and the Capitol, include get engaged to a boy she didn’t love at seventeen, and still it was not enough... they must’ve known this Quarter Quell was because of them. Certainly, it was to punish all the victors, to put them all in their place, but it was triggered by their actions during their Games, and all that had followed because of it. Athena doubted it was an easy burden to bear. It was Haymitch Abernathy’s name that had been called, but Peeta volunteered. It was surprising, since this was District Twelve’s second volunteer in seventy-five years, but she supposed it made sense; he probably wanted to protect her in the arena. He had always seemed to care about Katniss to some extent, though the same could not be said about Katniss’ feelings towards him.

And that was everybody. It was good to know who they would be facing, and it was certainly an advantage that she and Finnick knew almost all of them personally. But she didn't know how she'd be able to take these people down, many of them frightened and tired and old now, in a way that so many victors never got to be...

“So,” Finnick said, once the recap was finished, “those are this year’s tributes. See, I can’t really do the whole everyone is your biggest threat, since we _know_ these people. We know who isn’t or is a threat.”

“Unless you see something that says otherwise in training,” Mags reminded him. “It’s been a long time since you’ve seen a lot of them in action. Some may have gotten worse, but some may have gotten better.”

“That’s a good point,” Finnick conceded. “But we’ve still got a decent idea to build off of. Woof and Vida won’t be a threat.”

“The morphlings won’t be either,” Athena added. “I’d say we have to at least keep an eye on everyone else.”

“Especially Katniss and Peeta,” Alayne said. “They’re young and strong, and when it comes to sponsors, they’re one of the hottest things in the Capitol right now, especially with their engagement. All the attention’s gonna be on them.”

Athena knew Alayne had a point. At the same time, though, it was Katniss and Peeta, particularly the former, that Snow meant to target with this Quarter Quell. It was very possible that the Games would be rigged against them, and if that was the case, they wouldn’t exactly be a threat in the arena. She didn’t dare voice any of this out loud, but when she looked over at Finnick and Mags, she could tell at once they were thinking the same thing.

“Well,” Mags said at last, clapping her hands together, “now we know who’s who. We can discuss alliances and tactics more later on. You two,” she nodded at Athena and Finnick, “should get some sleep before the opening ceremonies.”

“Mags is right,” Alayne nodded, getting to her feet. “It’s a busy, busy day tomorrow.”

Recognizing the discussion had come to an end, Athena and Finnick stood as well, and the group of four filed off to bed quietly.

 

*

 

That night, it wasn’t long until Finnick was knocking on her door and joining her in bed, idly tracing shapes on her stomach. She was resting her head on his shoulder and was about to drift off to sleep when he asked how her conversation with Alayne went. She couldn’t blame him; after all, this was their first chance to talk about Alayne.

“Fine, I guess,” Athena said, not sure of what to make it, even hours later. “She said she wouldn't talk, so I guess it's a success. She knows more than I thought she did.”

“Like what?”

“Like - everything, I guess,” she replied. “She wasn't surprised that we love each other, just that we actually decided to do something with it. Apparently she could always tell that - that we have something, I guess.”

“Really?” he said, surprised, tracing circles on her arms with his fingers. “I wouldn't have guessed.”

“I wouldn't have, either,” Athena agreed. “Either way, we'll have to be more careful. She said she wouldn't talk, but that doesn't mean we should test her patience by acting differently around her. We need to make sure we keep up the old act around her.”

“We will,” he assured. “We'll get through this, my love.”

Athena nodded, and in spite of everything, smiled slightly at the pet name. Something about Finnick calling her his love - perhaps it was the mere fact that he was expressing his love to her, especially after years of holding back - made her heart swell.

“What?” he asked, raising his eyebrows at her. “Why are you smiling like that?”

“I like when you call me that,” she confessed.

“What - my love?” Finnick said, a delighted grin spreading across his face. She nodded, and his grin widened, rolling over so he was on top of her, kissing along her jaw. “You like when I call you that? When I talk about how much I love you? How much you mean to me?”

His lips moved down to her neck as he spoke, gripping onto her hips. “Something like that,” she sighed contentedly, threading her fingers through the curls at the back of his neck.

He moved so that his lips were hovering over hers again. He had a delighted sort of smile on his face, the kind that was all too rare for Finnick, the kind that always made her heart soar to see.

“I’m just glad to be able to tell you,” he confessed, dimples prominent as he smiled down at her. “I like that I can say that I love you.”

She pulled him down to her to kiss her, tugging on his hair in the way that always elicited a groan from him as they kissed languidly. When they pulled away, she said rather breathlessly, “I love you too. And it does feel pretty good to say.”

He smiled, leaning down to kiss her quickly yet deeply, before saying, “It's going to be you and me, right? Us two, inside that arena and out of it. It's going to be us looking after each other.”

Athena nodded immediately. “Yes. Of course. Always.”

Finnick nodded. “Then I can handle what comes next. Whatever happens, whoever we ally with - if we ally with people - it doesn't matter to me as long as there's an us. You and me.”

Athena stared at him for a moment through wide eyes. She was positive that she did not deserve him, that she never could as long as she lived. But he was there, lying with her, and he did love her. And for Athena, that meant more than she had the words for. She pulled him in for another lingering kiss, before she spoke.

“You and me.”


	12. XI

**XI**

 

Athena had been through prep with Ajax, Leto, and Hestia numerous times over the past six years. As such, it should feel like a routine occurrence that was, if anything, a slight nuisance. Still, though, it was hard to get used to the pain that came from being waxed and plucked and scrubbed at thoroughly, and Athena was also not expecting the emotional ordeal that it turned out to be. As it turned out, Ajax, Leto, and Hestia had all become attached to her in a way she had not anticipated and were anguished about her having to go back in the arena. They pulled her into a hug that knocked the wind out of her the moment they saw her, and each of them burst into tears at some point while prepping her. This left Athena to be the one that consoled them, which was uncomfortable for many reasons, including the fact that there was something distinctly awkward about patting the shoulder of a sobbing person while they waxed your legs. Considering the fact that it was Athena being sent to the slaughterhouse while they watched for entertainment, she was rather annoyed by the fact that she had to console them, but she really couldn't have expected anything more from them.

It was still an interesting thing to think about, though, the fact that they were so heartbroken about it. It reminded her of how upset Alayne seemed at the Reaping, though she tried to hide it. It really hadn't occurred to her that Capitol citizens were actually upset to see these victors be sent to their deaths once again, that they felt anything but excitement at this fun little twist the Quarter Quell provided. She was positive it'd go away as soon as the gong sounded and the Games started, but the fact that those feelings were present at all was surprising. After all, they clearly were not above sending children into an arena to fight to the death on a yearly basis. She supposed it was different with the victors since they had had all this time to grow attached. She supposed to them it felt something like watching friends die. The way the Games felt every year in the districts. It was something they could take advantage of, at least; during the interviews, if they could play up a tragic enough angle, they could use that sympathy to get sponsors. Hell, if enough of these tributes managed to pull on Capitol heartstrings enough, they might even cancel the Games.

That felt like an impossible dream, though, so Athena pushed it out of her mind.

By the time Ajax, Leto, and Hestia were finished and leaving her to be dressed by Tatiana, she was sore and exhausted and irritated. As she wrapped herself in the thin silk robe and sat up on the metal table, she felt more than a little wary about seeing Tatiana. She had no idea if Tatiana would react emotionally upon seeing her, and Athena wasn't sure how much patience she had left for Capitol tears. When Tatiana strode into the plain white room, however, she seemed quite calm.

“Athena,” she said, pulling her into a quick hug. “Ready to get to work?”

Relieved, Athena nodded.

“That’s what I like to see,” Tatiana said approvingly, nodding. “Now stand up and take that off, let me get a good look at you.”

Athena stood, took a few steps forward, and shrugged the robe of her, tossing it carelessly onto the metal table behind her. Tatiana circled her slowly, eyeing her critically.

“You look good,” Tatiana said. “You’re in good shape and the team did a good job prepping you. I was a little worried, when I saw them they seemed rather... distressed.”

“There were a lot of tears,” Athena informed her. “A _lot_.”

“I see,” Tatiana said in understanding. She walked towards her, taking her arms. “You’re not gonna get that with me - not yet, anyway. Syrio and I have been putting our emotions into our work. As you know, these Games are very special. It’s all victors, and though everyone here adores you and Finnick, every tribute is already loved by the Capitol. It’s going to be a fight for attention from the Capitol - especially from sponsors - and what better way to do that than with your outfits?” Without waiting for an answer from Athena, Tatiana continued. “Syrio and I have been hard at work for weeks designing outfits that’ll be sure to make the two of you stand out and shine the brightest.”

“That’s,” Athena began, but wasn’t sure of what to say; Tatiana’s and Syrio’s biggest ideas were always things that were supremely uncomfortable - at best - to wear, but they never failed to get Capitol attention and favour, which she supposed was most important now, so she continued, “great. That’s really reassuring. So, what are you thinking for the opening ceremonies?”

“I’m glad you asked,” Tatiana said with a smile that made her feel slightly uneasy. “Syrio and I were thinking about the things that District Four is known for, appreciated for, loved for. And it dawned on us - when you're out at sea, catching all that seafood that feeds our country, what's one of the most important things?”

“Um,” Athena said, “there are a lot of things - ”

“Nets!” Tatiana said. “Nets are important!”

“Nets,” Athena repeated slowly. “So... I mean, that's true. I don't get what it has to do with the opening ceremonies, though - ?”

“It's going to be what you're wearing!”

“I - the nets?” Athena said. “We’re wearing the nets?”

“Yes! You wait, you’re going to look amazing!”

And though she had always been dreading it, Athena felt quite like she had forgotten how much she hadn’t liked this part of being a tribute.

 

*

 

Finnick typically trusted Tatiana and Syrio a great deal - at least, when it came to their jobs as stylists. No matter how he felt about the clothes they designed, the Capitol always loved it, and so he had always gone along with everything they did. This did feel like a bit much, though - or a bit too little, rather.

He was wearing exactly two articles of clothing; a necklace of blue seashells around his neck and gold nets tied around his waist. The gold nets were from the stylists, strategically placed so that nothing overly compromising would be broadcasted to all of Panem. The nets also ensured that he was as close to being naked as physically possible without actually being naked. Syrio had told him that it would grab Capitol attention, and that it would. Finnick could see the logic in designing such an outfit, too; they probably figured the more of Finnick people could see, the better.

It made him wonder what Athena was wearing. She and Tatiana were yet to join him, Syrio, Ajax, Leto, and Hestia by their horses at the bottom level of the Remake Center, where all the tributes, their stylists, and their prep teams were gathering to prepare for the opening ceremonies that would begin soon. She was probably wearing something similar to him; the sexual light that the Capitol tended to view Athena in wasn't exactly a secret.

The only reason he didn’t really mind the outfit was that he knew the Capitol would go crazy for it. It showed more than enough skin to fuel all the fantasies they had that would keep their attention on them, and would do nothing but encourage this idea the Capitol had of them being gods. Gods of the sea, the Capitol called them. It was utterly ridiculous, as most of what the Capitol did was. Still, there were times, fleeting moments, where even Finnick could believe that he and Athena were gods. It was when Athena was by his side in the cave, the sound of the waves crashing in the distance; when they were at sea together on _The Morning Light_ , the wind blowing past them; when she kissed him in that way she did where he stopped feeling like he was drowning (or maybe like he was _still_ drowning, but in the right things) for once. They would be gods of different things, though. Athena was the goddess of the push and pull off the waves, the gentle crashing sound that lulled him to sleep at night. She was the goddess of the thrill of being out at sea, the feeling that the whole world was within his reach. She was the beauty it held, the life it could bring, the promise that the tide would always return no matter what. Finnick was the god of the darkness of the ocean that was far, far below, the god of the even darker secrets hidden there. He was the god of tsunamis that killed many, the whirlpools that sucked unsuspecting people to the darkness, the tides that always pulled away right after returning.

The blue seashells had been his idea, having managed to convince Syrio to let him wear it. Athena had made it for him three years back. She never brought it up after making it - there was a good chance she didn’t _remember_ making it, since they had both been a little drunk at the time - and she probably thought that he hadn’t bothered to kept the thing, but Finnick had kept it close to him ever since, even taking it with him every time he went to the Capitol. He liked having it with him; it always felt like he was keeping her close to him. At a time like this, where the Capitol wanted to tear them apart and make them turn on each other, it felt right to be wearing it. Besides, wearing it around his neck, proudly displaying it on his chest, sort of felt like the closest he’d get to being public about his feelings for her.

He was looking around him, eyeing the other tributes as they prepared themselves for the opening ceremonies as he chewed on a few of the sugar cubes that were supposed to be for the horses (eating them was an odd, unexpected habit he had developed, one that Athena always teased him for). Unlike previous years, where tributes were practically glued to their chariots and only interacted with their district partners, if anyone, the scene was very social, which was to be expected, because everybody already knew each other this year.

He saw Johanna Mason in the distance and locked eyes with her, the two of them nodding at each other. She didn’t look particularly pleased, but that was probably because she was dressed as a tree, the way stylists had District Seven tributes dress for the opening ceremonies every year. He knew Johanna wasn’t a big fan of the styling, and probably liked it even less on her. Finnick was going to go over to talk to her, but then her stylist swooped in on her, adjusting her tree-like costume despite the irritable comments that he knew at once Johanna was making. Smirking, he decided to leave them to it.

Further back, he noted, was Katniss Everdeen. Her hair was braided in the style she had become known for, but her makeup made her seem very different from the lovesick schoolgirl from District Twelve that they tried to make her look like last year, her face obscured by dark shadows and dramatic highlights. She was dressed in what seemed to be a very simple black jumpsuit and a black metal half-crown, but knowing District Twelve’s stylists, Cinna and Portia, there would probably be some effect that made her look like she was on fire, a reference to her being the Girl on Fire, which was what had first gotten her attention in the Capitol last year. She was standing alone, petting one of the horses for the District Twelve chariot, looking distinctly uncomfortable, and Finnick could understand why; all the other victors were familiar with each other already, but she and Peeta were the outsiders, in a sense, as new victors.

Finnick _had_ always wanted to meet her. He took a few more of the sugar cubes, slipped away from Syrio, Ajax, Hestia, and Leto, and strode over to Katniss, being sure to slip into his perfected playboy, flirtatious, seductive persona that he always put on for the Capitol. He walked until he was inches in front of her, popping a sugar cube into his mouth and leaning against the horse as she turned his attention towards him.

“Hello, Katniss,” he said, so casually they might have been friends for years, though in reality this was their first time meeting.

Katniss Everdeen seemed surprised and a little put-off, but she seemed to recover quickly, saying, just as casually, “Hello, Finnick.”

“Want a sugar cube?” he said, offering his hand, his palm stacked high with the little cubes. “Now, they’re supposed to be for the horses, but who cares about them? I mean, they’ve got years to eat sugar, whereas you and I... well, if we see something sweet, we’d better grab it quick.”

“No thanks,” Katniss said, clearly trying to make herself seem unaffected. “I’d love to borrow that outfit sometime, though.”

He looked down at himself, at the mostly bare skin and the golden nets wrapped around him, and smirked. “You’re absolutely terrifying me in that getup. What happened to the pretty little girl dresses?”

He licked his lips, a very deliberate action, wanting to gauge her reaction. She seemed genuinely unaffected, though, more repelled if anything. It could be she actually loved her star-crossed lover turned fiancé; more likely, though, she just didn’t like _him_. The whole persona he was forced to put on meant that the Capitol loved him, and many in District Four and other Career districts admired him, but the rest of Panem hated him and thought lowly of him. He tried not to think much of it, tried to remind himself that the ones that mattered liked him, but it still did bother him sometimes.

“I outgrew them,” Katniss said shortly.

Finnick took the collar of her outfit, running his fingers along it. “It’s too bad about this Quell thing. You could’ve made out like a bandit in the Capitol - jewels, money, anything you wanted.”

“Well, I don’t like jewels and I have more money than I need,” Katniss said. “What do you spend all yours on, anyway, Finnick?”

“Oh, I haven’t dealt in anything as common as money in years.”

“Then how do they pay for the pleasure of your company?”

“With secrets,” he said softly, moving so that they were closer together. “What about you, girl on fire? Do you have secrets worth my time?”

He had done this with Athena once, really just to get under her skin and see if he had an effect on her. He knew her well enough now to know that she had, but she’d managed to keep her composure so well that at the time he couldn’t really tell. It was one of the things that had interested him about her when he first met her. Katniss, on the contrary, was blushing now, but she still held her ground.

“No, I’m an open book,” she whispered to him. “Everybody seems to know my secrets before I know them myself.”

Finnick smiled at that, knowing all too well that she was right. That seemed to be the way things worked for victors, and Katniss was experiencing some of the worst of it. He backed “Unfortunately, I think that’s true.”

His eyes flickered to the side momentarily. He could see Peeta approaching, in an outfit similar to Katniss’. He could also see Athena emerging with Tatiana, heading towards the District Four chariot. As he suspected, she was wearing an outfit that consisted of strategically placed golden nets and golden heels to match. One of the nets was wrapped around her chest and shoulders, while the other was wrapped around her hips and her upper thighs, leaving the rest of her warm brown skin exposed. The nets were tight in certain places, hugging her breasts and her hips, and loose in others. Still, little was left to the imagination, which had probably been the goal. She was put in makeup that seemed to make her glow even more than usual, with gold highlights and eyelids and lips painted a glossy pink, curly hair falling around her face.

His gaze lingered on her for a little longer, before he made himself turn back to Katniss. “Peeta’s coming. Sorry you had to cancel your wedding. I know how devastating that must be for you.”

He popped another sugar cube and sauntered off, back towards the District Four chariot. Athena was looking at him with raised eyebrows as he approached, leaning against the chariot. He just smiled and waved at her cheekily, and hastened to close the distance between them.

 

*

 

“You look thrilled to see me,” Finnick said in greeting, as soon as he drew level to her.

Athena didn't address the comment, instead looking at the District Twelve chariot he'd just been at, where Katniss and Peeta were now together, talking, before turning back to Finnick and saying, “What were you doing there?”

“You do know I always wanted to meet her, Wise One,” Finnick said matter-of-factly.

“What did you say to her?” she asked, a little warily.

“I asked her if she wanted a sugar cube,” he said with a shrug. “She didn't seem to be in the mood.” He extended the pile of the little cubes in his hand to her. “You want one?”

“I still think that's weird,” Athena said, but took one and popped it into her mouth regardless. “Anyways, what else did you say to her?”

“Asked her if she had secrets worth my time,” he replied. “Said she was an open book, though.”

“Oh, so you did the same thing you did to me?” Athena said, crossing her arms and raising her eyebrows. “And here I was, thinking I was special.”

“You are special,” Finnick said at once. “You hurt me by suggesting otherwise. Anyways, you were much better at acting unaffected. She’s about as innocent as I expected her to be.”

“It might’ve helped me that you weren’t half-naked when you did it to me,” Athena suggested mildly.

“Ah, because you know it’s impossible to resist me like this,” Finnick said with a smirk, leaning in towards her.

“Shut up,” Athena said, pushing him away lightly.

He grinned and said, “You look great, by the way.”

Athena looked down at her outfit, the golden nets tied strategically around her chest and hips, before shooting him a look. “Shut up.”

He laughed. “Hey, I don’t understand this negativity! I think this is really working for us.”

“You would think so,” Athena replied, rolling her eyes.

Athena took in his appearance as subtly as she could. She’d never admit it to Finnick, not in a million years, because she knew he’d never let her forget it, but she could understand why Katniss would find it hard to act casual when Finnick looked like that, tanned skin and toned muscles exposed. Even being near him felt oddly more intimate with the lack of clothing that covered their skins. She wouldn’t be surprised if the Capitol started drooling as soon as they emerged into the road on their chariots.

What _was_ surprising, though, was what he wore around his neck. It was a necklace of blue seashells that she recognized instantly. She recognized it because she _made_ it three years ago, after returning from Roman's Victory Tour. She and Finnick were in the cave, a bottle of whiskey between them, and she kept finding these blue shells strewn around the cave. She collected all of them, found a piece of string long and strong enough, and made him a necklace then and there. Athena hadn't thought Finnick had even kept the thing, let alone that he would be willing to wear it for all of Panem to see.

“You still have this?” Athena said, stunned, indicating the necklace of shells. “I made that for you three years ago while I was tipsy.”

“Does that make it a crime for me to wear it?” he said vaguely, popping another sugar cube into his mouth. “I happen to love it. Brings out my eyes.”

There were a lot of things in the world that brought out Finnick Odair’s eyes. He did not wear a lot of them. She didn’t have the time to point that out to him, because then the music was beginning and the doors were opening for the first chariot, the roar of the crowd becoming audible.

“Shall we?” Finnick said, raising his voice to be heard over the crowd, stepping onto the chariot and offering his hand to help her up.

“Let’s get this over with,” she replied, taking his hand and allowing him to pull her onto the chariot.

“There’s the spirit we need,” Finnick grinned, as Tatiana and Syrio reached to straighten out their nets - not that there was much to straighten out.

Their chariot started moving, the white horses with brown patches beginning to move forward. They could hear gasps and shrieks and awed chatter from behind them, so they turned to see what had caused the commotion. Katniss and Peeta, whose outfits had once simply been pitch black, were now glowing like embers in a dying fire.

“They’re staying true to their brand,” Finnick said.

“Can’t blame them,” Athena said with a shrug. “Worked so well the first time, and it’ll definitely work again.”

They were approaching the door. Tatiana and Syrio were running on either side of the chariot, yelling last minute advice to them.

“Remember to smile!” Syrio cried.

“But not too much!” Tatiana said. “Be a little withdrawn, like you want them to _earn_ your love - hopefully by sponsoring you!”

“Heads held high, shoulders back, stand tall!” Syrio continued, advice that Athena and Finnick both followed at once.

“Remember, you both look amazing!” Tatiana said. “You’re legends here! No matter what you are anywhere else, here you’re gods! Act like it!”

And with that humbling advice in mind, Athena and Finnick entered the city.

The eyes of the crowds landed on them at once and seemed to stay there. Indistinct noises turned at once into screams, shrieks of delight and of admiration, chants of both of their names. Athena and Finnick turned to look at the crowds like they’d only just noticed they were even there. Finnick raised his hand in a casual wave that allowed him to flex his muscles not-so subtly. Athena lifted her chin as she regarded the crowds, raising her eyebrows and smirking, an expression that asked silently: _Is_ that _the best you can do?_

The crowds seemed to rise to the challenge immediately, screaming even louder for them, stretching out their hands, as though they wanted to reach out and touch them. People were blowing kisses in their direction, but neither Athena nor Finnick caught them or returned them, only acknowledging them by waving a hand lazily and giving them fleeting smiles. Playing so hard to get only made the crowds want to shower them in more affection. They started throwing flowers in their direction, blooms of various types and colours and sizes. Athena caught a daisy, sniffed it delicately, before placing it behind her ear, granting them a full, winning, dazzling smile at last that made the crowd go wild.

“Nice touch,” Finnick murmured from beside her.

“I do what I can,” she replied.

As she turned to her grin back to a slightly haughty, detached smirk, she watched the crowd under what she tried to make a cool, blithe gaze. They were still chanting their names, blowing kisses, throwing flowers in their direction. They seemed desperate; anything to elicit that positive reaction from them, anything to get them to return their love and admiration, anything for their approval. Athena and Finnick had them on their knees, eating out of the palm of their hands. All it took was a nod or a smile or a wave, any kind of acknowledgement, to make them go wild. Knowing that she had that sort of power over them might have been satisfying or comforting for their prospects in the Games, but it was hard to forget that any power she thought she had over them wasn’t real, that it was still her on her knees for them and nothing else.

At some point, a lot of the cries behind them turned into cries of “District Twelve!” and she knew Katniss and Peeta must’ve emerged in all their glowing glory. Athena couldn’t see them, but she caught glimpses of some of the other tributes on the huge screens on the route and could see that some other districts were trying, and failing, to mimic Cinna and Portia’s idea of illuminating their tributes. For some, like District Three with their outfits studded with electric lights, made sense, considering District Three specialized in electronics, but what were the District Ten tributes, who were dressed as cows, doing with flaming belts?

Athena felt Finnick’s hand brush hers, and she looked up to lock eyes with him. He offered his hand to her. “Wanna really get them going?”

For a split second, she just stared at him, into the sea green eyes she knew so well and loved so much. Most of her wished he was not there; wished that he was mentoring instead, or even back home in District Four, somewhere she knew he would be safe (or as close to it as one could get in Panem), somewhere she would not have to worry about losing him - a loss she was not sure she’d be able to bear, especially after already losing so much. The part of her that wasn’t as brave or as selfless as she would’ve liked, though, was glad it was Finnick by her side. Who else, really, could she trust with her life, with her safety, with everything and everyone that was important to her, the way she could trust Finnick? He felt like the only option that made sense, the only one for her in all senses, inside and outside the arena, like it was always meant to be them. Not just as two tributes, but as one team.

“Let’s do it,” she said.

She took his hand, and in unison, they lifted their hands above their heads, just as they had done at the Reaping. The crowd went wild over the display of unity between the two of them, screaming their names over and over again. Athena could see them in one of the huge screens and was sort of surprised by what she saw; they seemed almost larger than life, glowing in the low evening light, standing tall and bold. Like the stuff of legend. Everyone called them gods of the sea here, and it was ridiculous, she and Finnick made fun of it all the time when they were alone, but there was something almost godly to them. The crowds seemed to recognize it too, chanting their names delightedly.

They pulled into the City Circle. Athena and Finnick released each other as the chariots stopped in front of President Snow’s mansion and Snow stepped forward to make his welcoming speech. While Snow spoke, Athena noted that most people’s eyes were on Katniss and Peeta now - not for no reason, as the two were almost mesmerizing in their ever-changing coal costumes. In particular, the morphlings of District Six, bone thin with sagging yellowish skin, couldn’t take their overlarge eyes off of them. When Snow finished his speech, Panem’s anthem began playing, Athena and Finnick joined hands and raised them above their hands again to thunderous applause as the chariot did one last lap around the circle before pulling into the Training Center.

Athena and Finnick did not relax until the chariot had come to a stop and their stylists and prep team were rushing towards them. Finnick hopped off the chariot, then helped Athena back down, the two of them releasing each other’s hands once again.

“I’d say we did pretty nicely for ourselves,” Finnick said, as Tatiana and Syrio hastened to straighten out the nets again, though there really was no need now, and Ajax, Leto, and Hestia all hung back a little, babbling excitedly. “Don’t you agree?”

“You both did amazing!” Syrio said.

“Yeah, you worked the crowd perfectly,” Tatiana said, beaming.

“You both looked so good!” Hestia squealed.

“The crowd was going crazy, they couldn't get enough!” Leto said.

“Who could blame them?” Ajax said. “Look at you two!”

“Oh, and we have some friends who's desperate to meet you!” Leto added, turning to Finnick.

“Me specifically?” Finnick said, and it was so subtle that she wouldn't have even noticed it if she wasn't standing so close to him, but he tensed.

“Well, they _did_ single you out,” Leto said, winking.

“I can go with you, though,” Athena said at once, turning to Finnick. “I doubt they’ll complain about two victors.”

“Too right they wouldn’t,” Ajax said with a knowing smile.

“Don't worry about it,” Finnick said, shaking his head. “I'll be fine on my own.”

“I really don't mind,” Athena said, then, since Tatiana, Syrio, Ajax, Leto, and Hestia were all still listening, added, “I'd _love_ to meet their friends!”

“No, one of us should be here to touch base with Mags and Alayne when they get here,” Finnick said, while signing subtly, “I'd feel better if you were away from it.”

“You sure?” she asked, staring at him carefully.

He nodded, putting on a smile. “Positive.”

Athena nodded, and she wished she could kiss him or hug him or something, but she wasn't sure if he'd want it just then, and even if he did, they couldn't do it so publicly, so she settled for patting him on the shoulder instead.

“Great!” Leto said cheerfully, and before anything else could be said or done, grabbed Finnick by the arm, and dragged him away. Tatiana, Syrio, Ajax, and Hestia followed behind them, leaving Athena to stare after them, biting her lip worriedly as Finnick disappeared into the crowd.

“Well, it's official,” said a voice behind her, just as the group left. “You really can look good in anything.”

Recognizing the voice, Athena turned. As she suspected, it was Johanna Mason. Johanna won her Games four years back and they had been friends since their first meeting when Johanna visited District Four on her Victory Tour. In spite of her questionable morals and downright unpleasantness at times, there was something about Johanna that was very hard to hate.

“Johanna,” Athena grinned, moving towards her. “Nice to see you.”

“Wish I could say the same,” she replied. “I'm a little too angry at how _not_ hideous you look, though. Seriously, all they did was throw some nets on you and you still made it work! You could even make the garbage my stylist puts me in look good.”

Johanna gestured at her outfit for emphasis. Johanna came from District Seven; their main industry being lumber, stylists always kept to the same theme of trees when designing costumes for the district’s tributes. This year was no exception, as she was dressed as a tree with a headdress of leafy branches, and Blight, who was standing in the distance talking to the tributes from District Three, was dressed similarly.

“It's better than last year,” Athena pointed out fairly.

“You can tell the difference between this year and last year?” Johanna retorted, giving her a look. “It’s a tree every fucking year. Seriously, though, no wonder they love you and not me.”

“I mean,” Athena said, grinning, “it might have something to do with me being a little less hostile towards them.”

“What's that supposed to mean?” Johanna demanded. “When have I ever been hostile?”

“It's better to ask when haven't you been hostile,” Athena replied. “You made - ah - _inappropriate_ hand gestures at the camera during your speech in District Four on your Victory Tour.”

“One of my finest moments,” she said proudly, grinning wickedly. “Anyway, don't act like you're all sunshine and rainbows, mermaid girl. You can be just as hostile as me - if not, more.”

“Not openly,” Athena said. “I’m pretty good at keeping my hatred hush hush. I can act nice even if I don't want to.”

“Are you implying that I'm not nice?” Johanna demanded. “I am perfectly fucking nice.”

Athena gave her a look. Johanna glared back at her. Athena continued staring at her. Johanna cracked.

“Okay, maybe I'm not that nice, but who cares if I’m not?” she said, and Athena laughed. “I was told they liked when the districts bring a little heat.”

“You bring more than a little.”

“So do you!”

“But I kept it in the arena,” Athena countered easily. “You did not.”

“Whatever,” Johanna shrugged. “I'm some of the best entertainment they've had in years. That's all they want, isn't it? Some great big bullshit show.” Bitterness came into her tone then, her lips turning into a scowl. “That's all it's ever about.” Her expression clouded over momentarily, before she seemed to snap out of it again. “Anyways, where's the other half of the fish duo? I wanted to talk to him earlier, but then my stylist wanted to fix my outfit - like there's any fixing _this!_ ” she pointed to the headdress, disgust evident in her tone and in the gesture, rolling her wide-set brown eyes.

“You just missed him,” Athena said. “Our stylists and our prep team just dragged him away to talk to some friends of theirs.”

“It's starting already, then,” Johanna said grimly. “Even with him being a tribute?”

“We're honestly not sure,” Athena admitted. “Snow hasn't said anything to him. He'll probably have to... entertain them, but I think Snow will understand if Finnick isn't focused on romance.”

“That’s true,” Johanna conceded. “Nobody wants District Four’s golden boy to be off his game.” She paused, looking at a spot over Athena’s shoulders briefly. “I gotta go. I think my people want me back. Besides, your people are coming.”

Athena glanced over her shoulder; in the distance, the District Seven team were staring at the two of them, their eyes glued on Johanna in particular, looking a little impatient, while Mags and Alayne, who Athena was intensely jealous of because they were wearing more clothing than she was, were approaching.

“Yeah, your people are definitely tired of waiting,” Athena noted.

“Tell Finnick and Mags I said hi,” Johanna said as she began walking away. “Oh, and tell Finnick I said fuck off. He looked way too smug when he saw me dressed as a tree.”

And before Athena could say or do anything about that except grin, Johanna was out of earshot and Mags and Alayne were in front of her.

“You and Finnick did well out there,” Alayne said in greeting. “ _Everyone_ loved you.”

“I’m glad,” Athena said, playing with one of the nets idly, tugging it down.

Mags noted her fidgeting, gave her a knowing look, and said, her voice clearer and stronger than it had been when she first started speaking again the day before, “Why don’t we go settle in and talk more about these tributes? Where’s Finnick?”

Athena shrugged. “Leto said something about some friends who wanted to talk to him, and then they all went off with them. They’re bound to be somewhere nearby, but...”

“Ah,” Mags said, tensing a little, “I see.”

Alayne seemed rather irritated. “Of course, they must have lost track of time! Honestly, we have _work_ to do!”

That was the thing about Alayne; no matter what she was like, for better or worse, she really did take her job as their escort very seriously - at least, until her tributes were in the arena.

“We’ll go find them,” Mags said. “Athena, you wait for us by the elevators.”

“Why can’t I come?” she frowned.

“We probably don’t want another victor distracting them, do we?” Mags replied.

“But you’re a victor,” Athena pointed out.

“But I’m not shiny and exciting and new like you are,” said Mags. “And I’m a little more dressed.”

Athena looked down at herself, rather scantily clad in the golden nets, and had to admit Mags had a point. The whole point of the outfit was to draw attention to herself - more specifically, to her body. And the Capitol did always focus more on the younger victors.

“Okay,” Athena said reluctantly. “Fine.”

“We’ll be back soon,” said Mags, and with that, the two of them were moving away from her.

Athena sighed and moved to stand by the elevators. Once she was there, leaning against the wall and looking around her, she noticed Katniss, Peeta, Haymitch, Seeder, and Chaff all together, talking amicably. She caught sight of them just in time to see Chaff throw an arm around Katniss and kiss her right on the mouth. Katniss jerked back at once, startled, while Haymitch and Chaff guffawed. There was that perhaps overly affectionate behaviour Chaff had been known to show every now and then, especially when he had gotten something to drink; having seen Haymitch and Chaff pass a bottle back and forth on television for years now and knowing Chaff had a way of working situations to play in his favour, Athena wouldn’t be surprised if Chaff had somehow managed to get a few drinks in. Athena had already gotten the opportunity to set certain boundaries with Chaff, but Katniss, as a new victor, hadn’t really gotten the chance yet. Between Finnick turning on the seductive act for her and Chaff’s kisses, Athena got the distinct impression a lot of the victors were trying to get under Katniss’ skin, and were aiming for the innocent, rather straitlaced air that she gave off to do it.

Haymitch caught her eye and perked up at once, and after exchanging a few words with Seeder and Chaff, pulled Katniss and Peeta away from them, towards her instead. Athena raised her eyebrows at that momentarily, but then tried to make herself look friendly. It didn’t hurt to make friends as far as the arena went, and besides, she felt rather bad for Katniss and Peeta. They might all be getting thrown into this situation, but ultimately it was all because of them, which was doubtlessly a difficult thing to bear; and besides, young as they were, new to being a victor as they were, they didn’t have the advantage of the camaraderie that existed between the victors.

“Katniss, Peeta,” Haymitch was saying, as they drew level with Athena, “I’d like you to meet a special friend of mine - Athena Maris, District Four.”

“Oh, we’re _special_ friends?” Athena said, raising her eyebrows and smirking. “I’m honoured.”

Peeta offered her a hand, smiling. He seemed to be trying very hard to look nowhere but her face. She had to smile; it didn’t really bother her, finding it more amusing than anything else. “It’s nice to meet you.”

She took his hand and shook it. “Nice to meet you too.”

She extended a hand to Katniss next, who looked between her hand and her face like Athena might try to rip her hand off. When she finally decided that Athena’s hand and her smiling face were non-threatening enough, she took it, shaking it and saying, “Yeah, it’s great to meet you.”

“Don’t mind her,” Haymitch told Athena when they pulled away, “she has about twelve layers of ice to work through whenever she meets someone new.”

And then, to Athena’s surprise, Haymitch pulled her into a bear hug.

“You’re real happy to see me,” Athena noted as she hugged him back.

“When am I not happy to see you, mermaid girl?” Haymitch said loudly, before lowering his voice so that only she could hear. “Can’t say much now. This week, be extra alert. Watch out for signs.”

Athena frowned at that, her mind already racing. What did he mean? What sort of signs was he talking about? What was she supposed to be alert for? Certainly, it had to be about the Games, but what about them? Did he want her to be in alliance with Katniss and Peeta? But that couldn’t be what he meant by that; why wouldn’t he discuss it with Mags - unless, of course, he already had at the luncheon that was thrown for mentors, Capitol escorts, and other Capitol citizens of importance while the tributes were prepared for the opening ceremonies. Still, she doubted that was what this was about. If he was talking about an alliance between her and his tributes, why couldn’t he discuss it openly with her? Alliances were far from a forbidden thing in the Games. But if it wasn’t that, then what?

She knew she couldn’t get her answers just then, though, so she hitched the smile back on her face quickly, but whispered to him, “I’ll be on the lookout.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” Haymitch murmured, and they pulled away.

Katniss and Peeta were still standing there, looking a little lost and awkward, so Athena hastened to change the subject.

“I see you've met Seeder and Chaff,” she said.

“We did,” Peeta nodded.”He seems... friendly.”

“Maybe _too_ friendly,” Katniss mumbled.

Athena grinned. “He can be a little overwhelming at first.”

“ _A little_ ,” Katniss repeated disbelievingly.

“I don’t know what any of you are talking about, personally,” Haymitch said. “Chaff’s a great guy. He will - uh - drink up your liquor, though.”

“I always got the impression that that was a mutual thing between you,” Athena said lightly.

“That might be accurate,” Haymitch conceded. “It's all in the name of harmless fun.”

Harmless fun. Knowing Haymitch’s history of struggling with alcoholism, Athena doubted harmless was the right word. She didn't question it, though. It didn't seem to be the right time or place.

“Harmless fun. Did you have a lot of that at the party earlier?” she asked, hoping to get a chance to bring up Mags and see if she and Haymitch had spoken at all, be it about alliances or anything else.

“Barely - I was hard at working helping out these two here,” Haymitch said, moving in between his tributes to place a hand on both of their shoulders. Katniss rolled her eyes. Athena bit back a laugh. “Also, Mags and Effie kept moving me away from the refreshments table when they thought I was going overboard. That helped. Speaking of which, where is Mags? I was just catching up with her at the party - lovely as always, that woman.”

So Haymitch and Mags had spoken with each other - whether it be about alliances or something else. Athena could do something with that. Even if she couldn’t question Haymitch, she could ask Mags about it.

“That's a statement I'll always agree with,” Athena nodded. “She went to find Finnick. He's off talking with some - uh - mutual friends.”

“Disappeared on you that fast, did he?” Haymitch said with raised eyebrows.

Something about that bothered her, but she just said coolly, “He's a slippery guy when he wants to be.” Her eyes landed on Katniss. “I believe you met him.”

“Yeah,” Katniss said. “He's real... charming.”

Athena had to grin at that; she couldn't blame Katniss for not being very fond of him, since Athena hadn't liked him much when he pulled the same stunt on her. And in any case, she didn't know any better when it came to Finnick.

“It wouldn't hurt you to touch up on your lying,” Athena said lightly. “It’ll go a long way for you, especially in times like these.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” said Katniss, her voice rather flat. “I have nothing to hide. I’m an open book. And you can tell your friend that too.”

“Yeah, he told me he asked you if you had any secrets to tell him,” Athena nodded. And feeling quite like she ought to be defending Finnick's honour when he couldn't do it himself, she added, “He’s a curious guy with some secrets of his own, but he’s not so bad once you get to know him. Can’t blame you for not telling him anything, though; from what I can tell, he wasn't at his most convincing. I’ll try to let him down easy.”

“Well, I hope he doesn’t take it _too_ hard,” Katniss said.

“Hey - rejection from the girl on fire?” Athena said with raised eyebrows. “I’m sure that’s a burn he’ll never recover from.”

Haymitch laughed. Peeta grinned. Katniss even cracked a smile.

Nothing else could be sad before some Capitol attendants were firmly escorting the three of them towards an elevator. From the looks on their faces, Athena got the impression they were uncomfortable with any sense of camaraderie between the victors, which was prevalent from all the conversations that were being had around the room.

“Keep in touch,” Haymitch called over his shoulder.

“I’ll be sure to,” Athena replied, and then they disappeared inside the elevator.

As the elevator doors were closing, Johanna appeared at them, alone again, holding them open. Johanna met her eyes.

“What are you doing?” Athena asked suspiciously.

Johanna just winked and strode inside the elevator. Athena knew at once that whatever ensued in that elevator would likely be a mess - exactly what Johanna would want it to be. She’d leave them to it. She turned away, smiling a little to herself, as the elevator doors slid shut.

Not long after the door closed, Finnick, Mags, and Alayne returned, with their stylists trailing behind them, looking a little put out.

“Found him,” Alayne said brightly, quite unnecessarily, as the group began moving at once towards an available elevator.

“They’re a little upset the fun got cut short,” Finnick said, answering Athena’s question before she could ask it, apparently noticing her eyeing the stylists in confusion.

“Ah,” said Athena in understanding. “And you?”

“Not too bad,” he said, giving her a meaningful look. “Happy to be getting back to business.”

She nodded in understanding. “Oh, and Johanna says hi,” she said, nodding to both Finnick and Mags, before focusing on the former and adding, “And fuck you to you.”

Alayne looked scandalized by her language. Mags was smiling subtly. Tatiana, Syrio, Ajax, Leto, and Hestia dissolved into giggles, but they had all heard her drop curse words at one point or another after styling for her - and waxing her painfully - for six years, meaning they weren’t surprised or offended. Finnick raised his eyebrows.

“What have I done now?”

“She said you looked too smug about her tree outfit.”

“She can’t expect me to take her seriously in that thing?”

“Says the guy wearing nets,” she muttered under her breath, quiet enough that their stylists wouldn’t hear.

“I’m not expecting anyone to take me seriously, am I?” he retorted in an equally low voice.

Athena shook her head, before saying, more loudly, “Well, don’t let Johanna hear you say any of that.”

“I’m pretty sure I’m not scared of Johanna - ”

“Says the guy who isn’t in a room with her,” said Athena.

“ - but I’ll keep it in mind,” Finnick finished, as though Athena had not interrupted.

The group arrived on the District Four floor, and since everyone was familiar with the place, there wasn’t much to be said, everyone going their own way. Athena headed straight for her chambers and set her sights immediately on taking off the nets she had been stuck wearing for hours now. Taking off the outfit was a long, rather complicated ten minute process, since it wasn't entirely clear where the nets began and ended. Tatiana offered to help her, which made sense since she was the one who put the nets on her, but Athena felt rather embarrassed at the idea that she could not take off the outfit for herself and refused the help. It was just when she thought she'd have to accept the assistance after all that she figured out how to untie the top half. Once she'd figured the top, the bottom was easy, and soon she was free of the outfit. She hadn't realised how trapped she had felt in it, like a fish caught in the nets, until she had it off.

“I got it, Tatiana,” she called, triumphant.

“I’m proud of you, Athena,” said Tatiana from the other side of the door.

“District Four’s finest!” came Finnick’s voice.

“Shut up, Odair!” she called back.

She could hear his laughter, fading as he seemed to move away from the door. Shaking her head, she tied her hair back into a bun and made her way into the shower. Playing with the hundreds of combinations of settings lost its novelty years ago, so she simply washed all the makeup off her face and scrubbed at her skin until it felt raw, and by the time she had stepped out, dried off, and redressed into more comfortable clothes, Alayne was calling her down for supper.

To her surprise, Finnick was waiting outside her door when she came out. He seemed to be trying his best to remain calm, but he had a slightly frantic look in his eyes as he stared down at her, and his entire body was tense.

“Finnick?” she murmured. “What is it?”

“It’s the Avoxes,” he whispered to her. “There’s a new one, and she’s - it’s - ”

“Finnick! Athena!” came Alayne’s voice from the dining room. “Come along!”

“Hey, what is it?” Athena said in concern at the look on Finnick’s face as he stared down the hall, as though almost frightened of what - or who - was on the other side of it. “What’s wrong?”

Finally, he just shook his head, his brow furrowed. “Come on. You should probably see for yourself.”

Finnick led the way to the dining room. Frowning slightly, Athena followed after him. At the table, there were two Avoxes waiting to serve them. One was the familiar woman, not much older than Athena, with her chestnut brown hair and grey eyes, who had been here since before Athena’s first time in the Capitol. The other Avox was new, but far from unfamiliar, and the moment Athena’s eyes landed on her, her heart dropped, and she understood at once Finnick’s change in behaviour. Her greying hair pulled into a tight bun, anxiety all over her face, her lips tightened into a tense line as her eyes darted to each person in the room. Athena thought she was dead, that they had executed her after not getting anything out of her during her interrogation. Clearly, they had thought death was not punishment enough and sent her to serve the very Capitol she had tried to rebel against, serve the victors she had tried to stop from having to re-enter the arena before they were sent to their deaths anyway. Standing there, dressed all in white, rendered silent forever, was Genevieve Moselle.


	13. XII

**XII**

 

She didn't recognise them, Athena realized with a jolt. Genevieve Moselle did not seem to recognize her or Finnick at all - well, not outside of being famous victors from District Four, that was. She didn't recognise them, and Athena realized after a moment that there was no reason why she would, because she hadn't seen them that afternoon, the day everything went wrong. She had no way of knowing that they had been there, witnessed their conversation, seen the Peacekeepers coming, and had been unable to do anything at all but give them a split second warning.

        The moment Athena saw her, she wanted to do something, say something to her. She didn’t know what to do, though. They weren’t supposed to talk to the Avoxes; she always had to find subtle ways to show kindness to them or they’d get in trouble. Even if she could talk to Genevieve, she had no idea what she would say. They hadn’t known each other at all. Genevieve didn’t even know she and Finnick had been there that day. Even if she did know, what would she feel except resentment that they had done nothing to save her and her counterparts, that they had just stood there and watched then ran away.

        Before Athena could think of something to say, Alayne was saying, “Athena, Finnick, what’s holding you up? We are all waiting for you.”

        Athena tore her eyes away from Genevieve, who had been eyeing her and Finnick apprehensively, to see indeed that everyone else was seated. Athena and Finnick exchanged looks, before moving quickly towards the table. Mags was sitting at one of the heads of the table, so Athena and Finnick sat on either side of her. They looked at her meaningfully, asking her silently if she knew, if she recognized her. Mags said nothing but nodded once, her expression grave.

        All throughout dinner, Alayne, Tatiana, Syrio, Ajax, Leto, and Hestia all talked about the opening ceremonies, how fabulous Athena and Finnick looked, other standout tributes they liked, how ridiculous some of the other outfits were in comparison. Athena listened enough to know when she needed to chime in, but otherwise was barely paying attention to what was being said or even the food she was eating. Mainly, she kept an eye on the two women, particularly Genevieve, as they waited on everyone at the table for the entirety of the meal.

        When it came time to watch the recap of the opening ceremonies, Athena, Finnick, and Mags all sat together on one sofa, and she was glad. She didn’t think she could stand to be physically close to anyone from the Capitol after seeing Genevieve like this.

        As the procession of the tributes into the city began, it was clear that they hadn’t been lying when they said Athena and Finnick had been a success. Shots of the crowds saw Capitol citizens fawning over them as they remained smiling and inviting yet cool and detached. Still, it was clear that Katniss and Peeta were the real stars of the night, in their outfits like glowing embers. In a departure of what tributes normally did during the Games, they showed no warmth or love towards the Capitol citizens. There was no traces of smiles on their faces and they did not raise their hands in a wave to the crowds, their hands remaining joined together. They were no longer lovelorn star-crossed lovers; instead, they were vengeful, unforgiving. And the Capitol ate it up.

        Besides Katniss and Peeta, the ones who got the most positive reception where Athena, Finnick, and Johanna, and Athena could understand why; even all popularity aside, they were the youngest tributes. It was bad enough, dressing up children in these ridiculous costumes and parading them around the city on a regular year; doing it with aging victors, however, is almost pitiful to watch. A few of them, like Seeder and Brutus, who have managed to stay in good shape over the years, manage to maintain some dignity, but the majority of these victors, most of whom have fallen to the clutches of alcohol or morphling or illness, seemed almost grotesque in their costumes, dressed as cows and trees and loaves of bread.  The five of them were the very image of what a tribute should be in comparison, especially Katniss and Peeta, who were both only seventeen, in the age range to be Reaped during a regular year. Most years, there was much to be said about every tribute; this year, only the occasional comment was made.

        “Well,” Alayne said after the recap was done, clapping her hands together briskly, “you were never going to outshine Katniss and Peeta, with those costumes and the fact that they’re still all shiny and new from last year, so I’m quite pleased with these results.”

        There was an enthusiastic round of applause for Tatiana and Syrio for their work, which they received cheerfully with a bow and a wave of acknowledgement.

        “I think I could use a visit to the roof,” Athena murmured to Finnick and Mags. She needed to be out in the open air, needed to think in a way Genevieve’s presence seemed to make it impossible to do, and the sight of Katniss and Peeta reminded her of what Haymitch had whispered to her, which she still wanted to question Mags about. “If you two wanted to come...?”

        Finnick and Mags both nodded and murmured their assent, so the three of them got up and walked towards the elevators. Everything was just as it had been the last time she’d been on the roof, the small, dome-shaped room that led to the roof, the garden with potted trees and flower beds and wind chimes that caused a slight tinkling noise, and the view of the Capitol that the roof provided, the city twinkling like a vast field of fireflies. They were alone. There was a slight, cool breeze outside that felt pleasant as it blew past them. Athena paused for a moment, breathing in the cool, fresh air, then walked right to the edge of the roof and sat down on the edge. Finnick and Mags joined her shortly, sitting down on either side of her.

        There was a long silence. Athena looked up at the sky. The bright city lights meant the stars were never visible, and the moon was obscured by clouds that night. The sky was pitch black, nothing but darkness up above...

        “I thought she was dead,” Athena whispered eventually. “They said she was dead.”

        “I would’ve thought they’d tell us what they actually did to her,” Finnick said, shaking his head. “Servant in the Capitol. No voice. Use her as an example to anyone who dares to rebel ever again.”

        But Mags was shaking her head. “This makes sense. In a way, they have killed her. They took her away from her home, turned her into an Avox. Besides the three of us, no one here even knows her name. That is a kind of death. She’s dead as far as District Four is concerned.”

        Athena buried her head in her hands momentarily, rubbing her face blearily.”I just wish there was something we could do.”

        “Don’t dwell on that,” Mags said, shaking her head. “There’s nothing you can do to change this. And you have enough to worry about already.”

        “Mags is right,” said Finnick. “This is what comes with being the one that makes it out in one piece. It’s something you have to deal with. But you’re not alone. We’re in this together - through everything.”

        Finnick put an arm around her as he said it, and Athena smiled faintly. “That sounds like a plan. And speaking of which,” she said, straightening up, a little glad to change the subject, “I met Katniss and Peeta earlier and I talked to Haymitch.”

        “How was your meeting with the star-crossed lovers?” Finnick asked, eyebrows raised.

        “Katniss probably likes me more than she likes you,” Athena informed him. “But that's not a high bar being set. She's not really a fan.”

        “Everyone's a critic,” muttered Finnick.

        “But Haymitch said something interesting,” Athena continued. “He said to be extra alert and to watch out for signs.” Finnick seemed confused, Mags pensieve. “I have no idea what that means, but he did say he got to talk to you at the party, so maybe you do...?”

        Mags didn’t speak for a very long time. She seemed to be picking her words very carefully, even as she was saying, “Haymitch has... ideas. Ideas I’ve had for a while. And he’s not alone. But it’s a... sensitive subject. Not something we can talk about openly. But it does involve the both of you, as well as - ”

        But at that moment, Alayne’s voice was ringing out behind them, making all three of them jump, “You should all hurry along to bed. Training begins tomorrow, and we’re all going to have an early start to figure out strategy!”

        For a split second, Mags looked frustrated and annoyed, but all she said is, “She’s right. We’ll talk tomorrow. Come on.”

        Athena and Finnick exchanged uncertain looks, before standing and helping Mags to her feet. Finnick handed Mags her cane, and the three of them walked over to meet Alayne, heading back to the confines of the District Four suite.

 

*

 

        Athena slept with Finnick in his chambers that night. It was well into the night before either of them slept. Neither of them talked, though, instead staying curled together, Athena lying half on top of him while Finnick traced shapes along her back. Athena slept lightly, waking at dawn. She looked up at Finnick to find him still asleep, an arm wrapped loosely around her waist.

        It was the last thing she wanted to do, but she knew she had to go back to her own chambers before Alayne caught them like this. Sighing quietly, she propped herself up on her elbows. She looked over at Finnick again and reached forward to brush the hair out of his face gently, before leaning forward and kissing his forehead softly. She made to move away and detach herself from him carefully after that, but he stirred, opening his eyes slowly.

        “Morning,” he murmured, his voice raspy from sleep. He looked out the window, where the sky was still a deep, dark blue. “It's morning, right?”

        Athena smiled. “Yeah, the sun's just starting to come up. I thought I should go before... well, you know.”

        “Right,” he said. “Right, that’s a good idea.” He reached forward to take her hand. “Hey... whatever ideas Mags and Haymitch are apparently talking about.... it's something big. I can tell.”

        “I know,” she said.

        He switched to sign language, signing, “More than just an alliance.”

        “I know,” she said again.

        “You think Alayne knows about it?”

        Athena had to think about it. Alayne did seem to intend to get a little more involved as there was only one mentor this year... still, somehow she doubted she was in on whatever plan Mags and Haymitch and whoever else was forming. She remembered when Mags had first expressed her desire to mentor alone. _“This year in particular, I think things will be much less complicated if I mentor alone.”_ Whatever ideas she had, she'd had them for a long time and didn't even want her fellow victors from District Four to be involved, let alone Alayne. It was likely Alayne was mainly just there to pick up any slack.

        “No,” Athena signed. “I don't think so. From what Mags was saying, it seems like these ideas are pretty hush hush. Not something to be talked about with everyone.”

        Finnick nodded. “That's what I was thinking.”

        There was the sounds of movements outside. People were starting to wake up.

        “I should go,” Athena whispered. “I'll see you at breakfast.”

        When the coast was clear, Athena tiptoed over to her bedroom. Immediately, she stripped off her clothes and stepped into the bathroom, cleaning her teeth and showering and fixing her hair into a neat ponytail. With nothing but a towel wrapped around her, Athena exited the bathroom - and nearly had a heart attack when she realized someone else was in the room by her bed, reaching for weapons that weren't there until she remembered where she was.

        At the surprised cry she let out, the person turned around to reveal it was Genevieve. She gave Athena an apologetic look, gesturing to the bed. It was perfectly made; though Athena had slept in the bed, she and Finnick had taken the initiative years ago to start messing up the sheets of the bed they weren't using. That way, if someone were to walk into the empty room, they'd assume she or Finnick had simply left for a quick bathroom break or for a drink or something, rather than that she and Finnick were sharing a bed. Genevieve was simply fulfilling her duties as an Avox by making the bed for her.

        “Oh,” Athena said, a little awkwardly, yanking her towel up self-consciously. The guilt and the horror she usually felt for the Avoxes was only magnified by the sight of Genevieve; it was wrong that she was here instead of home in Four, wrong that she was serving Athena, it was all wrong, wrong, wrong. “Right, sorry.”

        Genevieve smiled and waved a hand as though to wave away her apologies, then gestured to something at the foot of her bed. Upon closer inspection, Athena realized it was the outfit Tatiana had left for her for training, tight black pants and a tight black short-sleeved shirt with greyish blue accents.

        “Right,” said Athena. “Thank you.”

        Genevieve nodded once. She seemed a little uncomfortable at the lack of clothes Athena was wearing, and admittedly, Athena was now, too. Genevieve gestured towards the door, as though asking for permission to leave.

        “Of course,” Athena said at once. “You don’t have to ask.”

        Genevieve simply nodded again, before hurrying out of the room. Athena watched her go, letting out a sigh as the door closed. She dressed quickly, knowing the sooner everyone was at breakfast, the sooner they could discuss strategy, although there wouldn’t be all that much to discuss - at least, not as much as there would be on a regular year. Everyone already knew what everyone else could do - or used to be able to do, anyway. There would be no hiding strengths or weaknesses. She had the feeling it would be something like a Hunger Games consisting of all Career tributes.

        Athena gave herself one last quick look in the mirror before leaving to ensure everything was in place. Her eyes drifted over to the blue spinel pendant hanging around her neck. Her hand reached to hold the blue gem in her hand, turning it over in her fingers as she thought of her mother and sister back home, of her fellow victors still in District Four. She was a million miles away from all of them now, as far as she was concerned, and she was failing them.

 _That's why you have to fight,_ she reminded herself. _That's why you can't give up._

        She was the last one at the table, so she served herself quickly some of the eggs, potatoes, and sausage, and was quick to slide into the empty seat beside Alayne.

        “We should get right to it,” Mags said. “I have four main pieces of advice for the both of you. One, train hard. You’ve been training ever since the announcement, and it paid off, and a lot of these tributes aren’t exactly in peak condition, but that’s no reason to get too comfortable. You’re about to have access to top facilities - the type you won’t find anywhere in Four. Take advantage of that.”

        “Of course,” Athena said.

        “Yeah, we’re not just going to sit on our hands for four days, that’s for sure,” Finnick said.

        “Good,” Mags nodded. “Second thing is a bit similar - remember to show off. At any opportunity you get. Everybody’s already familiar with each other and everybody’s already a victor, which means there’s no use in pretending to look weak and useless. That means it’s down to making sure you look stronger, faster, and in better shape than everyone else.”

        “Now, that shouldn’t be too hard,” Alayne chimed in, “young as you are, and judging from how some of these other tributes look... well...”

        “Alayne has a point,” Mags conceded, “be that as it may, like I said, we shouldn’t get too comfortable. Whatever you do, you have to make yourself seem valuable, like you're not to be messed with in the arena.”

        “Sounds good,” said Athena, while Finnick nodded. “What else?”

        “Form alliances,” said Mags. “The sooner, the better. You two are good, strong fighters, but in an arena with tributes like this, you’ll be better off with allies. If you’d like my personal recommendation, for starters, Katniss and Peeta. They’re young, they’re good fighters, and they’re popular, which means with the four of you combined, you’ll never be at a loss for sponsorships.”

        “We’re going to have to make friends, then,” Athena said. “Judging from last year’s games, Katniss is the type to want to go it alone. The only reason she made an exception with Rue is because she liked her. The only exception she’ll make this year is her fiancé - unless, of course, we get her to _like_ us.”

        She punctuated that with a look in Finnick’s direction. He raised his eyebrows. “Why are you looking at me like that? Are you her best friend now?”

        “She dislikes me less than she dislikes you, and that’s something,” she retorted.

        “You know, I’m slightly offended that you did nothing to defend my honour,” Finnick said. “I’d do it for you.”

        “I did,” Athena said. “But there’s only so much I can say for you when you walked up to her when you were pretty much half-naked and asked to know all her secrets.”

        “Either way,” Finnick pressed on, “I’m not sure we’re even going to need to hold hands and be friendly. This is the Hunger Games - specifically, it’s a Quarter Quell full of past victors. She must know she’ll need all the help she can get, whether she likes us or not. We just need to show her that we're valuable assets.”

        Athena shook her head. “That's Career talk, which is fine and well, it's what we know - but it's not what she knows. From what we've seen, that's not how she operates, and I doubt we're going to get much of a chance to show what valuable assets we are if she shuts us down because she decides she doesn't like us.”

        Mags jumped in before Finnick could retort, saying, “Athena has a point. We have to look at things from her perspective. For her, it's more than who she values as a tribute, it's who she values as a person, who she can trust, and right now, I doubt she trusts any of these tributes except Peeta. With that said, Finnick's also right - she will have to realize sooner or later that she can’t go at this alone and she’ll have to get some allies. Haymitch is probably telling her exactly that right now. Either way, you’ll have a way easier time with her if you can get her to like you, so no more asking her for secrets.”

        Finnick raised his hands in surrender. “Fine. It was one time...”

        “And it’ll be the last,” Mags said firmly, though she was smiling. “And you should also be getting friendly with Peeta, for the record. From what Haymitch tells me, he’s a little more open to allies than Katniss. Easier to cooperate with.”

        “He must be,” Finnick said. “A tribute from Twelve allying with Careers.”

        “Let’s hope he’s willing to do it again this year,” Athena said. “If nothing else, if we can get in his good books, it’ll help our case with Katniss.”

        “Good point,” Mags agreed. “And as for any other tributes to ally with - keep an open mind. Since all the tributes are experienced victors, there’s no real need to adhere to any kind of Career pack. You can choose anyone you want - Johanna, Seeder, Chaff - you can even give the other Careers a shot, if you want.”

        Athena and Finnick exchanged looks at that, thoughtful about potential allies they might have.

        “And one last thing,” said Mags. “Demeanour throughout training. You two should be radiating confidence. You two are gonna be showing off to prove you're valuable allies and deadly threats, but don't _act_ like you have something to prove. Be cool, calm, casual. Like you're not scared of anything or anyone. That means, among other things, not showing up on time.”

        “Being fashionably late is an easy way to leave an impression,” Alayne said in agreement.

        “Okay,” Finnick said. “Sounds good. I’ve always been a fan of being fashionably late. Is that it?”

        “More or less,” Mags said. “Now, both of you go to your rooms and take some time to prepare yourselves - physically and mentally. Alayne and I will call you down when it’s time to go.”

        Recognizing the dismissal, Athena and Finnick finished eating quickly and parted ways to their separate chambers. As soon as she was in her rooms, Athena flopped onto her bed, letting out a sigh and staring up at the  ceiling. She didn’t think she was nervous. Why would she be? She knew these people. She knew she was in better shape than a good amount of them. They didn’t intimidate her. But she was far from relaxed. After all, they could still hurt or kill her or Finnick.

        Still, that was no reason to sit around doing nothing in the time before training started. She tried to recall and use as many of the deep breathing exercises from the academy as she could, before doing all the stretches and warm-up exercises she could think of to prepare herself to train. She was interrupted once by Alayne, who brought her into the sitting room to charm some potential sponsors that wanted to speak to her over the telephone, but otherwise was uninterrupted. After she was done stretching and warming up, she cleaned her teeth, fixed her hair, and adjusted her clothing so that everything was in place.

        Just as she was finishing, Alayne was knocking on her door and calling, “Okay! The time to be fashionably late has come and gone! Anything more than this is just tacky. You two should go down now.”

        Athena paused for a moment, took a deep breath; then, she strode across the room and stepped outside to face what came next.

 

*

 

        Finnick hadn't been in his chambers for long when there was a knock on the door. He opened it to find Mags there, who immediately walked into the room.

        “Mags?” Finnick said, closing the door behind her and turning to face her, “what is it?”

        “Not much time,” she signed quickly. “Go up to roof. An hour before training ends. There won't be any guards and the cameras will be off. Meet some important people.”

        “What?” Finnick signed. “I - who? What important people? Why?”

        “Can't say too much here or now,” Mags said. “Too risky and not much time.”

        “Is this - is this what you were talking about yesterday?”

        Mags nodded once.

        “Well, what about Athena?” Finnick asked. “Can she come too?”

        “The less people up there when the time comes, the better,” Mags signed. “And again, not enough time. Main reason I came to you is that Alayne has Athena talking to sponsors on the telephone. She'll have to find out later.” Apparently, Finnick's confusion and uncertainty was showing through on her face, because she signed, “I need you to trust me.”

        And, in some part of his mind, that settled things. He trusted Mags with everything he had. She had helped him and been there for him through too much for him not to. He nodded slowly.

        “I'll go,” he signed.

        Mags smiled gratefully at him. “Thank you.”

        Mags made her way back out of the room, and Finnick was left to reflect upon these new instructions until Alayne was knocking on his door and telling him it was time for training. It was agreed upon that Alayne wouldn't escort Finnick and Athena all the way to the gymnasium; after all, they were adult victors now, not scared teenagers, which meant they didn't need a babysitter to take them from place to place. Still, Alayne insisted on escorting them to the elevator and pressing the button for them, as well as fussing with their outfits and their hair so that everything was in place. As such, it was sort of a relief when the elevator doors slid shut, leaving Finnick and Athena alone.

        The trip down to the gymnasium was so short due to the speed of the elevator that there was no time to make conversation. Instead, Finnick thought about his conversation with Mags and what would be waiting for him on the roof at the end of today. As much as he trusted Mags, he was still uncertain about everything. What concerned him more was what the nature of this meeting was, and who he was going to be having it with. And the fact that he had to hide it from Athena.

        He thought they'd be some of the last tributes at the gymnasium, but in reality, by the time they showed up and had the number four pinned to their backs, only half of the tributes had arrived. Atala, the tall, lean woman who ran training, seemed tired of waiting and began her spiel when Finnick and Athena sat down despite the poor attendance. Atala ran through the list of stations, which included combat and survival skills, and went through the ground rules, before releasing them to begin training.

        “So,” Athena said, standing up and stretching. “Stay together or divide and conquer?”

        “Second one,” said Finnick. “We can meet up again before lunch.”

        “Sounds good,” Athena said, saluted him, and made her way to try her hand at knife-throwing, where Seeder, Merona, Cashmere, and Gloss were already standing.

        Finnick walked towards the wrestling station. A few others were gathered there, but he was first to volunteer to spar with one of the assistants, figuring it was a good opportunity to show off the way Mags advised them to do. The assistant was muscular and fit, but Finnick got the upper hand against him easily, taking him down all five rounds against him before he decided he was done. He noticed several sets of eyes watching him in envy or hatred or admiration. Johanna stripped off all her clothes and oiled herself down to go next. Finnick smiled, shook his head, and moved on to the next station.

        He moved from station to station, spending time honing in his skills at each and talking easily with the other tributes and the instructors at the station. After about an hour and a half of this, he moved to the knot-tying station. He noticed Katniss standing at the station, struggling to figure out some particularly complicated knot. Grinning, he walked up until he was behind her, and reached around her to finish the knot she’d been sweating over with ease. She jerked away from him, but paid attention to the movement of his hands as he worked on the knot.

        “Sorry if I scared you,” he said, forcing a serious expression and finishing up the knot. “And here you go. Hope you were paying attention to that.”

        “I’m sure you are,” Katniss said sarcastic. “And I was just about to figure that out.”

        “I’m sure you were,” Finnick said, mimicking her sarcastic tone. “Either way, you’re wasting your time with this. Here, let me show you the most useful knot to know in the arena.” She seemed irritated, but didn’t move away as he grabbed a length of rope and began tying it. Noticing she was staring at him, he said with a grin, “Don’t look at me, look at the knot.” She looked annoyed by him and embarrassed to be caught, but lowered her gaze to the rope without a word. “Okay, this is the bit where it gets real complicated...”

        With that, he finished the knot he had been making - a noose. He placed it around his neck and mimicked hanging himself.

        “Funny,” Katniss said dryly.

        He offered the rope to her. “D’you wanna take me for a walk?”

        She looked from him, to the rope, then back again, before rolling her eyes and moving away from the station without a word. He grinned, laughing to himself as she walked away. He played with the end of the rope idly, imagined for a split second it hanging from the ceiling, remembered what Athena told him about Penelope and Talisa hanging from their ceiling fan in their house in Victor’s Village, and suddenly lost the humor in it. He took the noose off and untied it. He had wanted to stay at the station a little longer, but he lost the desire. He tossed the rope aside and moved away. He'd come back later.

        He went through the different stations.He met up with Athena again at the archery station. Neither of them were very good at it, but they weren't awful. Finnick supposed a friendship with the Girl on Fire would come in handy in times like these.

        “So,” Athena said conversationally, as one of her arrows grazed the side of the target dummy’s head, “how are things going for you?”

        “Not bad,” Finnick replied, nailing one of the targets in the stomach. The instructor, Tax, and Athena both gave him approving looks. “You got a chance to make friends with the star-crossed lovers?”

        “Not yet,” Athena replied. “I’m trying to get one-on-one time with them and haven’t really gotten the chance. You?”

        “Nothing with Peeta, but I talked to Katniss earlier.”

        Athena eyed him warily for a moment, before facing forward, firing at the dummy and hitting its arm, asking, “What did you do?”

        “You could have a little more faith in me,” Finnick said.

        “That doesn’t answer my question.”

        “I helped her tie some knots,” he replied finally.

        “Oh, yeah?” Athena said, raising her eyebrows. “How did she react?”

        “Probably not the happiest she’s ever been,” Finnick admitted, aiming another arrow at the dummy’s chest but hitting its neck instead.

        “Sounds about right,” Athena nodded. “We should both try harder.”

        “Well, right now she's with Wiress and Beetee,” Finnick said, jerking his head in the direction of the station that taught tributes how to start fires. “They seem to be pretty deep in conversation.”

        Athena glanced over at the station and saw the three tributes sitting together. She shrugged as she faced forward again. “Can't blame her. They talk about some really interesting stuff if you give them the chance. We're gonna have a hard time competing with that.”

        “I'm sure we'll figure it out,” was all he said in reply.

        Finnick wanted to tell her about how he’d be disappearing for a little while, but Tax was keeping too watchful of an eye on them, and soon more tributes were arriving at the station, eliminating any opportunity to communicate discreetly using sign language. He admitted defeat and hoped for another chance to talk to her alone.

        Before long, they were both moving on to other stations. Finnick kept an eye on Athena, trying to catch her alone, but she seemed to always be with other people. He lingered at the station that allowed him to use a trident, allowing himself to get lost in the familiar ease that came with using the weapon at which he was most adept. He heard footsteps approaching, and turned to see Johanna standing by him, an axe in hand.

        “Johanna,” Finnick said in greeting. “I see you found your clothes again.”

        “Says you,” Johanna said. “You were walking around half-naked yesterday. Anyways, who wrestles with clothes on?”

        “I managed it,” said Finnick.

        “You have to give the people a show every now and then,” Johanna insisted. “Especially the ones from Twelve.”

        Finnick raised his eyebrows. “Katniss or Peeta?”

        “Both,” Johanna said. “Yesterday I was with them in the elevators and took off my costume in front of them. It was hilarious, I’m pretty sure Peeta’s never seen breasts before.”

        “A moment he’ll never forget,” Finnick said. “I’m glad I’m not the only forging positive relationships with them.”

        “Speaking of my costume,” Johanna said, straightening up, “fuck you.”

        “Is this because of what Athena said about me supposedly looking too smug when I saw you in your costume,” Finnick said, “or did I do something else?”

        “The first one,” Johanna replied. “Just wanted to say it again.”

        “How was I supposed to take you seriously when you were dressed as a tree?” Finnick demanded. “I’m taking you seriously now, aren’t I?”

        “I don’t know,” said Johanna, turning her attention to one of the practice dummies and burying her axe in its side. “I’d appreciate a salute or something.”

        “You’ll be waiting a long time, Mason,” Finnick said, aimed his trident, and sent it flying right through his dummy’s head.

        Finnick finally noticed that Athena was alone, trying her hand at identifying various plants and their characteristics, including whether they were helpful or harmful to humans. He placed the trident back in its place, bid Johanna goodbye, and walked over to Athena, moving so that he was right behind her and placing his chin on top of her head. She tensed for a moment, until she realized it was him and relaxed.

        “You’re feeling friendly,” Athena murmured, in reference to his close proximity.

        “The Capitol always puts me in the spirit,” Finnick said with a smile. “Besides, nothing wrong with harmless flirting. Nothing dangerous unless we make it dangerous,” he said, lowering his voice to a whisper. He raised his voice again as he said, putting on a cheerful, casual voice, “By the way, that’s hemlock, not parsnip. You’d be a goner if you did that in the arena.”

        “Oh,” Athena said, evidently noticing her mistake just before she could make it and hastening to correct it. “Good catch, thanks.”

        “Any time,” he said easily, then lowered his voice. “Hey, I might be... out of sight for a while when training ends.”

        “What do you mean, out of sight?” Athena said. “We’re not supposed to leave.”

        “I’ve always had a knack for getting around stuff like that, you know that,” Finnick said with a shrug. “I can’t say a ton now - mostly because I don’t really know - but I’ll tell you later.”

        “I - but - is it safe? Will you be safe?”

        “Most likely,” he replied, and before Athena could get too concerned, added, “Just trust me, Thena. Or, at least, I’m trusting Mags here, so trust her if you can’t trust me. Main thing is, try to keep attention away from the fact that I'm not there. I'll try to make it quick.”

        “I - Mags told you to do this?”

        “Yes.”

        Athena sighed. “Okay. I'll try not to draw any attention to it.”

        “Thank you,” he said, and was going to kiss the top of her head until he caught himself and stopped. Playful flirting was fine, but there was always a line that couldn't be crossed. Instead he said, “You're the best district partner Panem’s ever seen.”

        “What an honour,” Athena said sarcastically.

        At that moment, lunch was announced. Finnick and Athena joined a larger group of at least ten tributes as they made their way to the dining area. A handful of the tributes pushed all the smaller tables together to make one big table, effectively eliminating any question of who would sit with who, as everyone would now be sitting together. Finnick and Athena loaded their trays with food and sat down near Johanna, Blight, Beetee, and Wiress. A rather odd combination, but not the most unpleasant experience Finnick had ever had. The only issue was that Johanna did not mesh all that well with Wiress and Beetee, making for a rather tense meal rife with tension and utterings of “Nuts and Volts.”

        “Easy, Mason,” Athena said firmly, when Johanna referred to Beetee as Volts for the third time, “that's not his name.”

        Johanna said nothing to that, simply rolling her eyes. She didn't call Wiress and Beetee Nuts and Volts again, though. Wiress and Beetee smiled at Athena, but said nothing.

        Finnick was mainly thinking about how, before, he'd be sneaking away to this meeting on the roof. His mind was buzzing with every possible person it could be waiting for him up there, every possible thing that this meeting could be about. He’d probably be meeting with Haymitch, judging from what Mags said the previous night about him having big ideas, but who else?

        The rest of the training session seemed to drag on and rush by at the same time. He was so preoccupied with the meeting that was to come that he did not pay as much attention to others as he moved from station to station as he should’ve, and merely hoped Athena was paying attention to make up for it. There were some notable things - Athena showing up Brutus and Enobaria after they tried to intimidate her (Finnick gave her a wink and a thumbs up from across the gymnasium); Peeta throwing the heaviest weight there was across the gymnasium with ease; Katniss at the archery station, striking every moving target Tax threw at her. Mostly, though, he was keeping his eyes on the clock. When the time to head for the roof came, Finnick wanted to avert Athena, but didn’t know how to without drawing attention to himself, so he just tiptoed away, grateful that everyone was so captivated by the sight of Katniss shooting that no one noticed him.

        Just as Mags had said, there were no Peacekeepers at the elevators to ensure that nobody left the gymnasium. He had to assume that the part about the cameras being off was also true. Once he was inside, he took in a deep breath and pressed the button on the elevator that took him to the roof.

        It was bright, sunny day in the Capitol, a warm wind blowing that caused the tinkling of the metal wind chimes in the gardens to fill the air. All the better to have conversations the cameras couldn’t pick up on. Finnick walked all the way to the edge of the roof, looking around for the person with whom he was supposed to be meeting.

        He made himself heard before he was seen. “Finnick.”

        Finnick whipped around. Walking towards him was Haymitch Abernathy, paunchy and middle-aged and relatively sober at the moment.

        “Haymitch,” said Finnick, unsurprised that it was him and reaching out to shake his hand. “Funny meeting you here.”

        “Let’s not waste time being cute,” Haymitch said impatiently. “I’m assuming Mags spoke to you?”

        “She did,” Finnick said. “So... why exactly are you talking to me instead of helping your tributes?”

        A small smirk crossed Haymitch’s face. “I am helping my tributes.” Before Finnick could say anything to that, Haymitch said, “Why don’t we go into the garden?”

        Finnick understood at once; the nearer they were to the wind chimes, the less likely they were to be overhead. He nodded and followed Haymitch into the garden, where the tinkling of the wind chimes rang louder in his ears. It was once they were there that Finnick saw who else was with him; standing up from his seat on one of the benches at the sight of them approaching, still dressed in his deep purple robes with the fur-trimmed collar that signified him as Head Gamemaker, was Plutarch Heavensbee.

        “Finnick,” said Plutarch.

        Finnick was surprised and confused, but remembered in time to remain polite. He bowed, as was customary in the Capitol, and said, “Plutarch. It’s a pleasure to see you again.”

        “And you,” he said, but he looked troubled. “Where’s Athena?”

        “Yeah, where is mermaid girl?” said Haymitch. “I was looking forward to seeing her.”

        “Mags didn’t get a chance to talk to her, and she figured the less people here, the better,” Finnick said. “So you’re stuck with just me.”

        “Mags might have a point,” Haymitch conceded. “You’ll just have to relay the message to her.”

        “And be subtle, mind you,” Plutarch added. “This isn’t something to be talked about carelessly.”

        “Yeah, I’ve pieced that together,” said Finnick. “But what exactly is this, besides something that’s definitely a secret?”

        “These Games are something Panem’s never seen before,” Plutarch said. “It’s a time to act, a time for bold strokes.”

“And what exactly do these bold strokes consist of?”

        “Well,” Haymitch said, “if you and Athena haven’t made your minds up yet, I think an alliance between you two and Katniss and Peeta might be in everyone’s best interests.”

        “An alliance?” said Finnick. “That’s it? Why all these dramatics just to talk about alliances?”

        “It’s not just an alliance,” said Plutarch. “It’s about Panem. It’s about the future.”

        “It’s important that Katniss stays alive,” Haymitch explained. “Not just to me, not just to her - to everyone. She _can’t_ die in there. I expect you understand what I’m saying?”

        “I think I do. So you've brought me here to ask me and Athena to... die for your tribute,” said Finnick slowly. He grinned, letting out a humourless laugh. “I've got to hand it to you, Haymitch, your mentoring tactics are definitely original. Can I ask why, though?”

        “Look,” Haymitch said, taking a step towards Finnick, “Katniss... she’s not just a tribute or a victor anymore... she’s become more than that. She’s a symbol of hope. She’s sparked the kind of action across the country that we haven’t seen in almost a century, and if we don’t act on it now, if we let it die, we might not see something like that for another century. And it only lives if she does.”

        “Right,” Finnick said, “so it’s about the rebellion. Let me ask you a question, though - do you have any kind of plan once everyone dies for her and she gets crowned victor? Is there any plan at all to actually take action or is she just going to go home and keep doing her cute Girl on Fire stuff? Because I’m not laying down my life and I’m sure as hell not letting Athena die for nothing to actually _change_.”

        “I’m glad you asked,” Plutarch said. “Though I feel I should correct one thing you said. Just because Ms Everdeen is to be kept alive does not mean that she will be crowned victor.”

        “What are you talking about?” Finnick said. “If she's not the victor then who? Unless you want her fiancé to win with her again - ”

        “That's not quite it, either,” said Plutarch. “There will be no victor. Before long, the victors who are still alive will be retrieved from the arena.”

        “You're going to break us out?” said Finnick. “Okay. Okay, say this works and is real and isn't insane, what happens after we get picked up?”

        “We go to District Thirteen,” said Plutarch.

        “District Thirteen,” Finnick repeated. Plutarch nodded. He looked over at Haymitch. He didn't seem to find this as insane or impossible as he did. “District Thirteen.”

        It occurred to Finnick that Haymitch and Plutarch were not in their right minds. Perhaps Haymitch wasn't so sober after all and neither was Plutarch. Or -

        “Is this a trap?” Finnick said with raised eyebrows. “Some trick to test if I’m loyal to the Capitol? I guess it explains why the Head Gamemaker is in on this. You really need to try harder than this - ”

        “This is not a trick,” Plutarch said calmly. “Every word of what we’re saying is true. You’ll be taken to District Thirteen, where - ”

        “There is no District Thirteen!” said Finnick. “The Capitol destroyed it during the Dark Days!”

        “The Capitol did attack Thirteen, yes, but they didn’t destroy it,” Haymitch said. “They built a bunker, rebuilt the whole district underground. That's where they've been living for the past seventy-five years.”

        “And the Capitol is just letting that happen?” Finnick said disbelievingly. “They're just letting the district that tried to overthrow them live underground?”

        “That's exactly what happened,” Plutarch nodded, “because District Thirteen had nuclear weaponry that they could turn against them and the Capitol didn't want their city destroyed.”

        “Nuclear weaponry,” Finnick repeated. “District Thirteen’s industry was graphite mining.”

        “There are some mines, yes,” Plutarch said. “But the district’s main industry was nuclear science and technology. They were a military district, taught to survive. Why else would they have had an underground bunker to retreat to?”

        “That - that’s not - ”

        “Not what you’ve been taught, yes, I know,” Plutarch finished for him. “But you’re a smart man, Mr. Odair - certainly you already know that we’ve never told you the whole truth? District Two’s main industry is masonry, but what they won’t tell you is that Peacekeepers are trained and equipped there, too.”

        “But how - how has District Thirteen been allowed to exist?” Finnick said, unable to wrap his head around it.

        “A deal was made after the first rebellion,” Plutarch said. “District Thirteen was so weakened they wouldn’t be able to win the war, but they could still destroy the city if they so desired. So Thirteen and the Capitol made an agreement that Thirteen would make no moves to attack the Capitol under the condition that they would be allowed political independence from Panem. The Capitol agreed to protect themselves, bombed the visible remains of the district and told the rest of the country that they had demolished the entire district to get you to believe that no one could rebel against the Capitol and survive.”

        “And why have they never done anything? Said anything?” Finnick demanded. “Seventy-five years of the Hunger Games and starving people and killing them on the street and they never thought to use those weapons?”

        “After the first rebellion, District Thirteen was weakened,” Plutarch replied. “Badly. They struggled for a long time just to survive. And their continued existence without attack from the Capitol was based largely on the Capitol being able to propagate the lie that the district had been destroyed during the Dark Days. They’ve been in no shape to host any actual attack on the Capitol - until now.”

        Finnick, though he hoped he wasn’t showing it, was reeling from all of this. Haymitch seemed to be able to tell, because he jumped in, saying, “Look, we can show you all the proof you could possibly want later on, but the main idea is that between District Thirteen being stronger than ever and Katniss becoming this symbol to the districts - the Mockingjay - this is the perfect opportunity to finally strike back. A time like this won’t come back for a very, very long time. We can’t waste it. And if Katniss dies in there, all the hope she’s inspired, the fire she’s started - it’s gonna die out.”

        Finnick did not know what he had expected from this meeting. He just knew it wasn’t this. He supposed Mags wasn’t lying when she said they were big ideas. He reminded himself that Mags was the one that was bringing him here. She would not tell him to do this if it was a lie or a trick or a trap. She would not bring him here if she didn’t trust it wholeheartedly, and she was far from a fool.

        “Okay,” he said finally. “Say you succeed in breaking us out and we get to - to District Thirteen. What then?”

        “Quite simply,” Plutarch said, “war. District Thirteen is as strong and ready for war as they’ve ever been, and with the Mockingjay and as many of the victors as we can get at her side to rally the people, and the fact that the tension throughout the district will erupt into full scale uprisings before long, we’ll be able to take down the Capitol once and for all.”

        “Who’s gonna lead?”

        “What?” Plutarch said, surprised by the sudden question.

        “Once we get to Thirteen and there’s the war,” Finnick said. “Who’s gonna lead the war? Say we win, who’s gonna take over after Snow? Who’s even been leading Thirteen all this time?”

        “They have a president of their own,” Plutarch responded. “President Alma Coin. I’ve been communicating with her for some time now, and she is the best person for this position right now. She will bring Snow out of power and overthrow the Capitol - whatever it takes, however long it takes.”

        Finnick, however, could not find it in himself to trust that idea so fast. “How do we know this President Coin is any better than Snow? How do we know she won't be just as bad or worse?”

        “We don't!” Haymitch said impatiently. “We have no way of knowing! But we do know that if we go any longer with Snow, things are going to only get worse for everyone. Coin plans on stopping Snow. Is there a chance she'll be just as bad or worse? Maybe. But it's a chance we have to take if we want this to end. You ever heard of the enemy of my enemy is my friend, Odair?”

        “Haymitch is right,” Plutarch said. “You have to put aside your distrust and remember that, if nothing else, we have a common enemy.”

        “And how am I supposed to trust you of all people?” Finnick asked. “You keep talking about taking down the Capitol, but you are the Capitol. You’re the Head Gamemaker.”

        “Maybe,” Plutarch replied. “But I’ve been doing much more than that. I’m part of an undercover group that aims to overthrow the Capitol, and I have been for a long time. I’ve been in contact with District Thirteen for years. If you don’t believe me, ask Mags. She knows. She’s been my eyes and ears for activities, whispers of rebellion in Four.”

        All at once, Finnick remembered all the times Mags spoke highly of Plutarch. It had always confused him; he’d never understood what exactly this Capitol man, a Gamemaker no less, had done that made her view him in a more positive light than she saw many people in the Capitol. Now, it made sense. She knew that he had been working to help take down the Capitol, had even been helping him do it.

        “What brought that about?” said Finnick.

        “I’ve always had an uneasy feeling about the way things were run here, about the things I was doing,” Plutarch said. “As time went on, as I gained more power and learned more secrets, I began realizing why. It was because I was standing on the wrong history. I intend to change that. I intend to help change the history itself.”

        “What about me and Athena?” said Finnick. “How did you know you can trust us?”

        “A few factors,” Plutarch said. “Mags loves and trusts you both, for one. And District Four has been showing signs of rebellion for a year now. I remembered Athena's Games in particular; the way she acted, the things she said... she isn't your typical Career tribute. I haven't forgotten that. I've had an eye on her for a very long time. She's moved me to action on more than one occasion.”

        Rather unsurprised and familiar with the idea that Athena had the capability to inspire people to action, Finnick just said, “Who else have you decided you can trust? Who else do you have on your side?”

        “Besides Four, we’ve made contact with Districts Three, Eight, and Eleven,” Plutarch replied. “They have varying degrees of knowledge on the topic, as well anyone else we contact. These four districts were the first we consulted for a variety of reasons. Their home districts are already rebelling and they have skills we’ll need to keep the Mockingjay alive in the arena, mainly. We’ll contact more as time goes on.”

        “It would be rather significant if you and Athena agreed to this,” Haymitch interjected. “You’re tributes from a Career district, and don’t let it get to your head, Odair, but you’re legends in Panem. If you joined us, it would encourage a lot of people to follow.”

        “What would we do?” said Finnick. “If we did do this, what would our role be?”

        “Well, the lucky thing for you is since we’ve contacted you so early, you’ve got your pick,” Haymitch said. “We were thinking that you and Athena, if you agreed to this, would stay with Katniss and Peeta. You’re the two youngest, strongest, smartest, most fit tributes. They’ll be safest with you against anyone or anything that tries to harm them in there.”

        Finnick considered this. That was probably one of the main reasons Mags made a point of saying that he and Athena should become allies with Katniss and Peeta. She was merely putting it in their minds early. He understood why they would need the protection, too; they were the outsiders, which meant anybody who wasn’t in on this plan (he already knew the other Career tributes weren’t going to be anywhere near this operation, and there were probably others who couldn’t be trusted or would not want to take the risk) would target them first. And even as Head Gamemaker, Plutarch couldn’t rig the Games in Katniss’ favour without a bias showing through, and it was likely that Snow wanted Katniss dead by the end of the Games, considering all the trouble she’s caused him, whether she meant to do it or not.

        “Now, you’ll also have to fight to protect Peeta,” Haymitch said. “He’s important to this, too, and if nothing else, she wants him alive. She wants to save and protect him more than anything, which means if you want to protect her, he comes with it.”

        Finnick narrowed his eyes a little at that. “They don’t know anything about this, do they?”

        “No, and they can’t know, either,” Haymitch said firmly. “Snow’s got eyes on them at all times, and even if he didn’t, if something goes wrong, they’re gonna be the first ones the Capitol tries to capture, which means the less they know, the better. Now, that also means they can’t know that you’re trying to protect them. They need to think it’s just an alliance.”

        “One problem with that,” Finnick said. “Katniss doesn’t seem to be a big fan of mine or even Athena. How are we supposed to protect her if she doesn’t want us around?”

        “You’re going to have to start getting friendly,” Haymitch replied. “It’s more important now than ever. But, also... I know what she’s like, I know she’s not exactly a ray of sunshine, so I have a backup plan.”  

        He held up his wrist, showing off a solid gold bangle with a pattern of flames.

        “Cute,” Finnick said blandly. “I think I’m missing the relevance.”

        “Our escort, Effie, gave us each something gold to signify that we’re a team,” Haymitch explained. “You know, Katniss has her pin, Effie’s got her hair, I’ve got this, and Peeta’s got a medallion. I’m getting a replica made of this - ” he tapped the bangle - “a bracelet for you, and one the size of a ring so Athena can put it on her necklace. Katniss will see it and know it’s a sign to trust you. Now, this is relying on the fact that she’ll listen to me and we never really know if that’ll happen, but... even she knows she’s going to need some friends in there.”

        “You really thought this all through,” Finnick said.

        “There’s more,” Plutarch said. “Much more. But only if we have your word that you’re in on this.”

        Finnick didn’t answer at first, his mind racing. Wasn’t this it, wasn’t this the thing he had thought about ever since he was a child, the thing he’d always hoped to happen? A rebellion, a chance to overthrow the Capitol, a chance to truly be free? Granted, he might not ever experience that freedom, since his chances of making it out of the arena alive were considerably lower now that he would have to make it a priority to protect Katniss. And if he died, he’d never get to see any of the people he loved back in Four, he’d be leaving Annie, Mags, Athena... Athena... Still, it was a chance, a chance for something more... moreover, though, was the thought of Athena's death. He couldn't stand the thought of Athena dying, no matter how noble or worthy the cause was. Although, he told himself, just because he would have to protect Katniss didn’t mean he couldn’t fight as hard to protect Athena. He suspected there wasn’t a rebellion in the world that could stop him from doing that.

        And besides, what would he do if he did not agree? He or Athena might win, and then they would return to District Four, where they would never be safe, where they would never be free, where things would never change. This was something real to fight for, something more than killing others in cold blood just to go back to more suffering, to more of living life in a cage. This was more than just him, this was all of Panem, this was the decades of death and pain under the Capitol’s rule, this was the first real sign of hope in years, this was the chance for a better future for everyone. If he could not fight for this, what was the point of fighting for anything at all? If he had to die for it, then so be it. Better to die like this than die still belonging to the Capitol.

        Finally, he spoke.

        “I do. You have my word.”

        Both Haymitch and Plutarch looked rather relieved. He wondered if they had expected him to refuse at first.

        “And what of Athena?” said Plutarch.

        Finnick had to think for a moment about if Athena would agree to any of this. His mind jumped immediately to yes and stayed there, though she knew she would have doubts, uncertainties. A part of her was always with the people she loved, particularly her mother and sister, who she felt a particular need to care for and look after... the thought that she might leave them behind would kill her... still, she was always one to fight for what was right, even if it was hard. And she wanted to protect people, especially the people that were important to her. What better way to keep people safe than by bringing down the people who brought so much danger in the first place?

        “I’m not going to speak for her,” Finnick said slowly, “but I think she’ll agree. I do. But even if she doesn’t, she won’t tell anyone about this plan. I know her. She’d never do that. This secret is safe with her. If you can’t trust me, trust Mags. She’ll back me up about her.”

        Plutarch nodded. “Very well. Do try and convince her, she’d be an asset to have.”

        “Now, before we say anything else, let's be clear on one thing,” Haymitch said. “The priority is Katniss. We want to save as many of you as we can, but if, when the time comes, we can only save one of you, it'll be her. And if saving one of you gets in the way of saving her, we will leave you behind.”

        “I understand,” Finnick said. “But I have one condition of my own.”

        Haymitch and Plutarch exchanged looks, before the former said, “Let’s hear it, then.”

        “If, when the time comes,” Finnick said, “it comes down to me or Athena, you chose Athena. If you can only save one of us, it has to be her, do you understand me? I need your word on this.”

        Haymitch and Plutarch looked at each other again, before Haymitch cleared his throat and said, “That sounds reasonable. If that’s what it comes down to, you have our word.”

        “Good,” Finnick nodded once. “Good.”

        He straightened up, faced the two men squarely.

        “Now. Let’s talk business.”

 

*

 

        The first half of training went well, but the second half of the day went even better. Athena got a chance to interact with Peeta while they were at the camouflage station. It was always the most unpopular station, and with only the morphlings there a little ways’ off, she had the perfect chance to talk to him one on one. She waited until she had perfected camouflaging her forearm into rocky ground before she spoke, though.

        “That looks amazing,” she said, nodding at the way he had managed to paint his hand to blend in perfectly with a pile of reddish-brown leaves. “I’d use a little more red, though, your hand looks a little darker than the actual leaves.”

        Peeta examined his hand closely for a moment. “Good catch.” He reached out and mixed more berry juice onto his hand so that his hand matched the colour of the leaves more closely. “Thank you.”

        “No problem,” Athena shrugged. “You probably would’ve figured it out on your own eventually. The camouflage you did in the arena last year was incredible, I’ve never seen anything like it.”

        “You do a lot of this kind of thing?” Peeta asked.

        “Something like that,” said Athena. “I’ve taken up art since my Games. It’s made me appreciate this kind of thing a lot more.”

        “Now that you mention it, I remember seeing some of your stuff on television,” Peeta said. “Everything you did was so beautiful - like, your art.”

        “I got it,” Athena grinned at the sheepish look on his face. “Are you an artist, too?”

        “Kind of,” Peeta shrugged. “My family owns a bakery. I used to do the icing on the cakes, but I never got to really do anything beyond that. Now I have the time and the means, so I do a lot more of it.”

        Athena nodded in understanding. “If what you can do with sticks and mud and berries is any indication, I’d say you’re a pretty good artist.”

        He smiled. “Thank you.” He paused for a moment. “I saw you weaving baskets a little earlier - how do you manage to do it so tightly?”

        “I’ve had lots of opportunity to practice,” Athena shrugged. “It’s really not that hard, though. I can show you, if you want...?”

        He nodded, so after they had both washed the dirt and paint and dust off them, they headed over to the basket-weaving station. They stayed there for a while, talking easily while Athena showed him what to do; he was a little slow to catch on at first, but once he got the hang of it, he started moving impressively fast. Before long, he had woven a fairly tight basket that he showed to her for inspection.

        “Not bad,” she said with a grin. “See, told you it wasn’t hard.”

        “I had a good teacher,” he shrugged, and she smiled.

        He asked if she knew how to make nets, so she showed him that next. He struggled much more with that than with weaving a basket and took him much longer to complete. She had to move a lot slower so he could copy her movements.

        “I might stick to baskets,” Peeta murmured.

        She grinned. “You just have to practice. It’s just a lot of tying knots. You’ll get the hang of it.”

        When the two of them parted ways, Athena headed over to practice using a spear, figuring it was time to show off. She started off at short range, attacking the practice dummy at all angles, wielding her spear easily at top speed.

        Before long, though, she heard someone calling out, “Hey, Four!”

        She turned to see Brutus and Enobaria standing there, on either side of a target dummy at least twenty feet away from her.

        “Why don't you challenge yourself a little?” Brutus said. “Indulge us. Try this.” He patted the practice dummy on the word “this.”

        Athena raised her eyebrows. “Any reason in particular?”

        “Just think it’s easy to show off at close range,” Enobaria said. “Nothing special about that. But this? This would really be something. Unless you think you’ll miss...?”

        Athena understood what was happening at once. Some part of Brutus and Enobaria had always thought she was weak, both physically and mentally, probably because she didn’t share their bloodthirsty nature. They meant to make the rest of the tributes feel the same way. Athena merely smiled; they’d have to try a lot harder if they wanted to get under her skin.

        “I don’t miss.”

        It wasn’t arrogance or boasting. When she had a target, if she used a spear, she didn’t miss.

        “Why don’t you prove it, then?” Enobaria said. “Don’t tell me you’re scared you - ”

        Athena didn’t give her time to finish. She aimed her spear and threw it with all her might. It landed right where she wanted it to, piercing the center of where the target dummy’s brain would be. The force of impact the spear made forced both Brutus and Enobaria, who had still been standing right beside the dummy, to jerk back. They stared at her, stunned.

        Athena walked forward slowly until she was in front of them, removed the spear for the dummy’s head, and said again, calmly, but enunciating every syllable carefully, “I don’t miss.”

        She turned and walked away without a word. Finnick, from the other side of the gymnasium at the mace station, gave her a wink and a thumbs up. She grinned at him, but the sight of him reminded her about what he said about disappearing for a while, and suddenly she was filled with the same worry and confusion she had had when he first told her about it. She was distracted from it by Johanna, who appeared by her side within seconds, looking positively delighted.

        “What was that you said about you not being hostile?” she said.

        “I still don’t think it’s the same,” Athena said. “This is the Hunger Games. Completely different than flipping off cameras.”

        Johanna rolled her eyes. “Whatever you say, Wise One.”

        Most of the tributes had seen the stunt she pulled on Brutus and Enobaria, so she figured she was all set in terms of showing off for the day. She headed over instead to the station that provided fishing tips. Being from District Four and having worked on the docks for years now, though, Athena was more than well versed in this and didn’t really need any instruction - something the instructor, Clio, realized within minutes and gave up on trying to teach her anything, letting her have free reign on the station instead. She spent some time making fishhooks out of anything she could get her hands on - a thorn, a wishbone, an earring. She was joined eventually by Katniss, who before long simply started mimicking Athena’s movements rather than paying Clio any mind. Athena smiled, but saw Clio getting discouraged, so she listened in on what she was saying and pretended to be surprised at some of the tips she provided.

        When Katniss managed to make a good hook out of a bent nail and some of her hair, Athena smiled and said, “Hey, not bad at all!”

        Katniss gave a small smile. They were silent for a moment.

        “I saw what you did for that girl,” she said suddenly. “At the Reaping.”

        It took a split second for Athena to realize what she was talking about when she volunteered for Annie at the Reaping.

        “You mean Annie?”

        Katniss nodded. “It was really brave.”

        Athena shook her head. “I don't know about brave. I did the math a long time ago and realized I was the only one that stood a chance in here. It was the right thing. It was the only thing that made sense. What you did last year, though... first in your district to volunteer? That's brave.”

        Katniss smiled weakly, but shook her head. “Prim was my sister.”

        Athena nodded in understanding, more grim now. “I have a sister too. A little younger than you.”

        “Calypso, right?” said Katniss. Athena nodded, a little surprised that she knew. “I remember watching you talking about her.”

        Athena nodded, but talking about Calypso just reminded her of how she’d left her without a goodbye, of how she might not see her again, which brought about a tight feeling in her chest and a scratchy feeling in her throat and a stinging feeling in her eyes, and she didn’t much like the idea of breaking down in front of everyone, so she swiftly changed the subject to give Katniss pointers on how to improve her fish hook.

        Near the end of training, Katniss brought all eyes to her when she was at the archery station. Clearly, the stationary targets were too easy for her, so the instructor, Tax, brought out these fake birds and launched them high in the air for her to shoot at instead. It seemed kind of silly at first, but the value in them was evident, since it was practice with hitting a moving target. Before long, the whole gymnasium could hear the sound of each bird thudding to the ground as she took it down, because everyone had stopped what they were doing to watch her. Athena looked around at people’s faces and saw expressions of admiration, envy, and hatred. And most of all, she saw that almost everyone wanted her on their team now.

        After training, she looked around for Finnick, and though she already knew he would be gone, his absence troubled her. What meeting was he having? What was important enough to break the rule about tributes leaving the gymnasium during training? She knew it couldn’t have been anything that could possibly harm him, if Mags was setting it up, but she was still worried and a little upset about being kept out of the loop. After all, they were meant to be a team.

        “Athena!” came Johanna’s sharp voice. Athena turned to face her. “Training's over. You coming or what?”

        Athena was still worried, but shook it off, telling herself that he would be fine and likely turn up soon and give her the answers she wanted.

        “Yeah. Yeah, I'm coming,” Athena said, then followed Johanna into an empty elevator.

        “Where's your - ” Johanna began, as Athena punched in the numbers four, then seven, and Athena knew she was going to say 'boyfriend,’ but she caught herself right on time, “ - Finnick. Where’s Finnick?”

        It took everything Athena had not to actually sigh with relief. They were being watched, though, which was why Athena refrained, why Johanna stopped herself right when she did. When they had first met, Johanna referred to Finnick as Athena's boyfriend and Athena as Finnick’s girlfriend all the time, because she was Johanna and she wanted to embarrass them. They allowed it at first, because it was harmless - and because, though they didn't dare admit it at the time, being called that secretly delighted and thrilled the both of them. As time went on, however, and Johanna kept doing it, Athena and Finnick had to confront her and stop her. They were being watched, and they were terrified that the wrong person, someone from the Capitol, would hear and everything would fall apart.

        It had been difficult, explaining the situation to Johanna without really explaining the situation out of fear of being overheard. Johanna had understood quickly, luckily, and hadn't used the word boyfriend or girlfriend around them since. Johanna was hot-tempered and often plainly rude, but she wasn't cruel. Still, sometimes she came close to slipping, like just then.

        “I would love to know myself,” Athena replied, forcing herself to sound cool and unconcerned.

        “He's disappeared?” Johanna raised her eyebrows.

        “Looks like it.”

        “You seem awfully relaxed about it,” Johanna pointed out, raising her eyebrows at her.

        “He’s a slippery guy, he’ll turn up,” Athena shrugged, mostly to comfort herself.

        Johanna seemed to realize then that her calm was forced and simply nodded, saying, “You're probably right.”

        Athena didn't like the probably, but she couldn't expect anything else from Johanna. Now that Finnick had come up between them, it occurred to Athena then that she ought to tell Johanna about what had happened between her and Finnick. She didn't know why she thought that way, but Johanna seemed like the sort of person to tell about this sort of thing. Still, she knew she should talk to Finnick first. Besides, she had no time to figure out how to tell Johanna without outright saying it for fear of being overheard, because just then, the elevator was stopping and the doors were sliding open to reveal the District Four floor.

        She bade Johanna goodbye, stepping into the District Four suite, wandering over to the sitting room and flopping onto the sofa. Before long, though, Athena was up on her feet and pacing up and down the room, restless. Neither Mags nor Alayne were there, but she wasn't surprised. They had told both her and Finnick that they would be out most of the day, sealing sponsorships for them. Sponsorships wouldn't be so difficult to get this year, since Athena and Finnick were already well-known and loved in the Capitol. Still, the sooner they were made and sealed, the better. The fact that it was a Quarter Quell meant the Gamemakers wouldn’t be holding back in the slightest when it came to the arena. It was best to guarantee that they would have sponsors to help them out before the Games began.

        She heard footsteps entering the suite, and Finnick’s voice calling out, “Athena!”

        “In here!” she called out, relieved to hear his voice.

        There were the sounds of his footsteps approaching, and then he entered the room. He seemed in perfectly good shape, nor did he seem upset - he was tense, though. She hadn’t really thought any harm would come to him, but it was nice to have confirmation.

        “Mags and Alayne still out getting us sponsors?”

        Athena nodded and was about to demand where he was earlier, when he went up behind her and wrapped his arms around her. He pulled her towards him, pressing her up against the warmth of his body. Even away from District Four, he smelled as he always did; mint and the ocean, mint and home, mint and memories.

        “Pleased to see me?” she said mildly.

        “I'm always pleased to see you,” he replied with a grin.

        “That's awfully kind of you to say,” she said. “Is this way of showing that for any particular reason, or just harmless flirting again?”

        “I have something to tell you,” he replied. “Though I don't think this is quite the right setting for it.”

        “Then what is?” she asked casually.

        “The balcony should be fine tonight,” Finnick said. “A little windy, but I think it’ll suit us both.”

        Immediately, she understood. Whatever Finnick had to tell her, he needed it to be somewhere the cameras wouldn't pick it up. The balcony, with all the noise of the wind, would serve as a perfect cover. The close proximity at the moment was to ensure that neither of them spoke louder than absolutely necessary.

        “I see,” she said, keeping her tone light and even. “Well, I'm never one to complain about the view.”

        “I'm glad. Don't ask me any questions yet,” he added, breathing it into her neck, probably so that anyone watching the footage couldn't read his lips. “Wait until we're outside.”

        “We're dealing with something serious, then?” she asked, barely moving her lips.

        “You'll see,” he whispered. “And smile the way you did when you first saw me. Keeping up appearances, remember?”

        “You don't have to tell me,” she said, then shifted around so that she was facing him, painfully aware of how much of their bodies were touching. “Let's go.”

        Finnick hovered for a moment, looking her up and down, before taking her hand in his and pulling her away towards the balcony. The wind had definitely picked up from earlier today; it was loud enough that, so long as they spoke quietly enough to each other, no cameras would be able to pick up what they were saying.

        “Where were you?” Athena said, standing close enough to him that they only had to whisper.

        “I was on the roof,” Finnick said. “Mags had me meet with Haymitch Abernathy and Plutarch Heavensbee.”

        “Haymitch and Plutarch?” Athena repeated, evidently confused at the unexpected combination. “Why? And why did I know nothing about this?”

        “I was more available at the time, and Mags wanted to keep the number of people there low so it looked less suspicious.”

        “Why?” Athena said. “What were you talking about?”

        “Remember what Mags said last night about big ideas?” said Finnick. Athena nodded. “It was about that.”

        Athena found that wasn’t she wasn't particularly surprised about that, but it still didn’t clear up most of her questions. Finally, she said, “Okay, why don’t you just tell me everything that happened and we’ll go from there.”

        He nodded, and so he told her everything. He told her about how District Thirteen was not truly gone, that after the first rebellion they had retreated to an underground bunker and the Capitol had allowed the district to exist independently under the condition that the Capitol could demolish the visible remains and propagate the lie that it had been destroyed and that they made no move to attack the Capitol, since it also specialized in nuclear weaponry; about how District Thirteen had struggled to stay alive, weakened after the Dark Days; about how the district had now managed to build itself up to be strong enough to attack the Capitol once more, led by a woman named Alma Coin. He told her about the plan to break out the victors during the Games, with priority placed on Katniss as she was the symbol of hope for the rebellion, the Mockingjay; about the potential number of tributes who may get involved; about how he and Athena, if she decided to agree to this, would be the ones who stuck close to Katniss and Peeta and made sure no harm came to them; about how Haymitch was making jewelry for them that would show Katniss and Peeta to trust him. He told her about how this rebellion had been something in the works for years; about how Plutarch was part of an underground group dedicated to bringing  a down the Capitol; about how Mags had been his eyes and ears inside District Four. He told her the whole plan in whispers, occasionally switching to sign language when talking out loud felt too dangerous, and if Finnick and Mags didn't trust it so much and it didn't make so much sense, she would have never believed any of it.

        “Shit,” was all Athena managed to say when Finnick was finished.

        “That's still kind of where I am,” Finnick nodded. “I didn't tell them whether or not you'd agree - I figured I'd leave that up to you - so if you don't want to do this, I understand. But I do... I do think this is something worth fighting for. But it's up to you, whether you're in or not.”

        Athena didn't speak. She didn't even know what to say. No matter how much she thought about it, no matter how much tension was mounting all throughout the country, she never thought she'd actually be in this situation. Rebellion had never been an option, had never been anything Athena had even considered for very long due to the sheer impossibility it seemed to hold. Now that it was right in front of her, she was forced to grapple with everything that came with it, the good and the bad, the beautiful and the terrifying. Rebellion was a fairy tale and a deep, paralyzing fear all at once.

        If she agreed to this, her already low chances of surviving the arena were even lower. And having to focus on protecting Katniss and die for her if need be would make it much harder to protect Finnick. Still, not impossible. She could still do whatever she could to ensure that he was one of the victors that was rescued and taken to District Thirteen. And if she died... she thought about the people she’d be leaving behind... Hudson, Roman, Annie, Mags, her mother, Calypso, Finnick... she’d be leaving all them. She loved them all, missed them every moment she was away from them, wanted to protect them, keep them safe...

        And yet what if she lived and did not go through with this plan? She might make it out of the arena alive and come home, but then what? She couldn’t protect anyone else in this country, not when she couldn’t even protect herself. There could be another Hunger Games the very next year and Calypso could be Reaped and despite her very best efforts, she could die in the arena... how was that protecting her? They could be killed at any moment if Snow or some Peacekeepers wished it... how was that protecting them? But this... joining this rebellion, taking the risk to bring down the Capitol once and for all... that was the only real way for them to ever be safe.

        And it was more than that. It was about what was right. The people in the districts had no chance at being safe, being free, being treated fairly under Snow. If joining this rebellion was what it took to stop him and the Capitol, then it was the only thing for her to do. There was no hope of a better future otherwise. And if she died doing it... well, there were worse things to die for. Like a game.

        Besides, Finnick had agreed to do it, and they were in this together. In some ways, that made her decision for her.

        Her mind made, Athena reached out a hand. Finnick took it at once. Her resolve hardening, she spoke.

        “I’m in.”


	14. XIII

**XIII**

 

As soon as Mags and Alayne returned to the District Four suite and dinner was had, the two of them grilled Athena and Finnick on how training went. They recounted the events of the day in detail. Since Finnick had missed a good chunk of the day, Athena took over when it came to talking about the second half of training.

It felt odd, though, talking about training and the Games after everything Finnick had told her. She was itching to talk about this rebel plan with Mags. It also felt a little strange to be sitting at a table with Alayne after knowing that she, Finnick, and Mags were all part of a plan to take down the Capitol. She knew it wasn't as if Alayne would be targeted personally, but it was still an attack on her home, on all she knew and loved and supported. She knew nothing of the plan, and there was no way she ever could.

“This all sounds good,” Mags said, after Athena and Finnick finished recounting the day. “My only word of advice would be to show off more. Make sure everyone sees just how powerful you are.”

After they'd discussed what happened throughout the day, they moved onto alliances.

“I probably messed up any chance of an alliance with Two with the stunt I pulled today,” Athena admitted, a little sheepish. “Which means messing up any chance of an alliance with the Career pack as a whole.”

“Worth it,” Finnick said firmly. “Definitely worth it to see the looks on their faces when you threw that spear. Besides, I have a feeling an alliance with the Career pack was never going to work out. And gold fangs never impressed me much, anyway.”

Finnick had a point, in more ways than one. They were officially apart of the plan to rebel against the Capitol and protect Katniss at all costs; she highly doubted that the tributes from Districts One and Two, the most loyal districts to the Capitol, would want any involvement it. At the very least, they were not people who could be trusted with the plan. Any alliance with them could not work so long as their priorities and their interests clashed so fundamentally.

“Well, no matter, no matter,” said Alayne bracingly. “They’re far from the only worthy tributes, aren't they? I've always found Enobaria’s whole fangs look to be quite tacky, myself.”

Athena knew Alayne enough to know that her words were meant to be a great show of support towards them and their decision to keep away from the Careers, so she only smiled and said, “Yeah, it is a bit much.”

“Well, who else?” Mags asked. “How did things go with Katniss and Peeta?”

Athena and Finnick exchanged looks.

“I didn’t get a chance to talk to Peeta,” Finnick admitted. “I talked to Katniss at the knot-tying station... didn’t really bond that much.”

“I got a chance to talk to them both,” Athena said. “I talked to Peeta while we are at the camouflage station, then I taught him how to weave a basket and a net. I talked to Katniss a bit when I showed her how to make a fish hook. I’d say it went well.”

“That’s good,” Mags said. “And I think you might be onto something. Talk to them under the pretense of showing them how to do something they don’t already know. That could help a lot.”

They spent a little longer talking strategy, but were done before long. After dinner, Alayne was heading back out. She was meeting with some friends of hers that could become potential sponsors. When Mags offered to come with her, Alayne said no, insisting she should go alone at first to warm them up before Mags met up with them to seal the deal. When Athena, Finnick, and Mags were alone, the latter pulled them into the sitting room and sat them down on the sofa, before sitting down across from them in an arm chair.

She turned to Finnick and signed, “Did you talk to them?”

Finnick nodded.

“And you - ?” she nodded at Athena - “he told you about it?”

Athena nodded.

“And?”

Athena and Finnick exchanged looks, before the former signed, “And we’re in. We’ll do it.”

Mags nodded, looking a mixture of relieved and grim. “Okay. Okay. So, as you might have already guessed, this changes a little the way things will go, strategy-wise. Katniss and Peeta are still the priority. You need to make them trust you, however you can.”

“Haymitch said something about making replicas of a bracelet Effie had made for him,” Finnick said. “Katniss and Peeta have seen him wear it, so when they see us with the replicas, they'll know to trust us.”

“Yes,” signed Mags. “I'm arranging to see you off at the Launch Room. I'll have the replicas with me and I'll give them to you then. We can't risk them not getting cleared by the review, so we'll have to smuggle them in. But even with that, you should still make sure they trust you a little, otherwise they might disregard the sign.”

“Okay,” Finnick signed, “so we make sure to bond over the next few days. What about any other allies?”

“No one that isn't involved in the plan,” Mags signed. “I'll tell you as more people are brought into the plan and what their roles are. In terms of the actual arena, it'll probably just be you two and Katniss and Peeta. Maybe a few others - whoever Katniss and Peeta want, as well.”

Athena and Finnick nodded. Athena was not entirely sure how she was feeling. It was a good thing, she knew, finally doing what she could to bring down the Capitol and Snow after all they had done. Still, she couldn't help but be overwhelmed and uncertain and afraid.

Mags reached out to take their hands in hers, before saying out loud, “I know you might feel unsure, but I wouldn't be involving you in this if I didn't believe in it with everything I have. I've been watching it all happen, been watching Plutarch for a long time and this... this is a good cause.”

“Yeah,” Athena said slowly. “Yeah, I know.”

“You really would know all about it,” Finnick said, switching to sign language. “Being his eyes and ears for so long...”

Mags shot them an apologetic look. “I'm sorry. I didn't want either of you to be implicated in this in case something fell through. I wanted to make sure there was a real, solid plan in place before I got either of you involved.”

“But we could have done more,” Athena signed. “We could have helped!”

Mags smiled. “That's brave and kind of you to say, but the way you can really help will be in this arena and in the fight that's going to come. That's what you should be focusing on.”

Alayne returned soon after that, bearing positive news about the way her meeting turned out and announcing that her friends would like to meet with Mags the next day at noon to confirm sponsorships. Athena and Finnick were advised to go to bed, so Athena retreated to her chambers, where she was joined by Finnick before long.

The rest of training passed by well enough. Athena and Finnick spent more time with Katniss and Peeta, trying subtly to make friends with them. Athena and Peeta, with the help of the morphlings (who hadn't left the camouflage station since training started), worked together to paint Katniss into a field of yellow flowers. Athena and Peeta spent a lot of time at the station dedicated to throwing and wielding knives as well the station dedicated to knot-tying, and Finnick taught him more tips than Clio at the fishing station. Athena and Finnick had struck a deal with Katniss that for an hour of archery instruction, they'd be give her an hour of spear and trident lessons.

They also interacted with other tributes, especially as more news came in about who was agreeing to participate in the rebel plan. The tributes from Districts Three, Eight, and Eleven all agreed, as did the tributes from Districts Six and Seven. They all had varying degrees of knowledge about the plan, though; it seemed besides Athena and Finnick, the tributes that knew the most about the topic were from Three and Seven. The other tributes were not known to be trusted or their likelihood in agreeing was too slim to risk. They all had different roles, too, mainly to make sure that any tributes uninvolved in the plan didn't cause any harm to Katniss and Peeta. Katniss, it seemed, had an interest in Beetee and Wiress as allies, and so Johanna and Blight were charged with the task of protecting them from physical harm for Katniss.

She and Johanna discussed it once, briefly, covertly, while they were practicing using swords.

“So,” Johanna said conversationally, slicing at one of the target dummies with her sword, “these Games just got a whole lot grimmer, and I didn't even think that was possible.”

“What makes you say that?” said Athena, stabbing her target dummy where every vital organ would be.

“I got some news about who I'm gonna be spending a lot of time with during these Games,” she replied. “Ridiculous. I can't believe it.”

“You're being dramatic,” Athena told her firmly. “You could be way worse off.”

“Easy for you to say,” Johanna said, decapitating her target dummy and waiting for the instructor, Pan, to bring out a new one for her. “You're obviously gonna be where all the fun is.”

“Sometimes it feels like you and I have very different definitions of fun.”

“There's nothing fun about Nuts and Volts,” Johanna said.

“You really need to stop with that nickname,” Athena said, stabbing her target dummy where its left eye would be.

“It's not like I came up with it.”

“No reason to keep using it,” Athena replied with a shrug. “They’re really not as bad as you're making them out to be at all. And they're smart as hell, both of them. You're gonna be happy to have them on your side. You've gotta think of the future - you know, long term.”

And she meant much more than just the arena, but this rebellion as a whole. Johanna seemed to understand.

“Oh, trust me, I am,” Johanna said. “The future is the only reason I'm going along with all of this.”

At the same moment, they looked behind them. Their eyes found the same people. Katniss and Peeta were some distance away. Katniss was starting a fire while Peeta worked to make a shelter for both of them with some branches and leaves. Athena and Johanna looked at each other again.

“Panem today, Panem tomorrow, Panem forever,” Johanna said with a wolfish smile.

And then, at the same moment, they stabbed their target dummies directly in the chest.

Athena got to spend a little time alone with Wiress and Beetee, as well. They figured out how to make a compass with the barest of supplies, and they pointed out to her the force field that existed between the Gamemakers on their elevated stands and the rest of the gymnasium.

“I don’t see it,” Athena said, frowning as she stared at the stands as subtly as she could.

“The left corner of the table,” Wiress murmured.

At first, it seemed like there was still nothing there. But then she saw it. A patch of space, about six inches square, at the corner of the table seemed to be almost shimmering. It was as though the air was rippling in tiny, visible waves, distorting the sharp edges of the wood and a goblet of wine that had been set up there.

“Like the one on the roof... and the one they set up around the arena,” Athena murmured, remembering watching Haymitch’s Hunger Games, the second Quarter Quell, and the way he had used the force field to his advantage. She frowned. “Why would they put that up? It hasn’t always been this way, has it?”

“No,” Beetee said. “This is new. Katniss Everdeen said it’s because of her. She shot an arrow at them during her evaluation last year.”

Athena tore her eyes away from the vibrating patch of air to look at Beetee, stunned. “What?”

“She said she was provoked.”

“Right,” Athena said slowly. And she thought her first evaluations had been bad. “I guess it happens. Do all force fields have that one weak spot?”

“Flaw,” Wiress murmured.

“In the system,” Beetee finished. “A chink in the armour, as it were. There’s always one. If you know where to look.”

“I guess you two would know about that stuff,” Athena conceded. “That’s the name of the game in Three, right?”

“Something like that,” Beetee replied. “But things have been getting... backed up, over the past year.”

He gave her a significant look at that, and she knew at once that orders getting backed up in District Three was no coincidence. It was the beginnings of an uprising in District Three. She supposed she couldn’t be surprised; Plutarch did say Three was one of the few districts making strides to rebel against the Capitol.

“I see,” Athena said casually. “Well, these things happen. We’ve had our own technical difficulties back in Four.”

“Is that so?” Beetee said, interested. “It seems like these are tense times.”

“Definitely,” Athena agreed. “But I’d say we’re moving towards something better, wouldn’t you?”

“I certainly would,” Beetee said slowly, eyeing her carefully, “I certainly would.”

“Like having you around,” Wiress said suddenly. “Different from a lot of the others...”

“You showed us kindness,” Beetee elaborated, noticing the confused look on Athena’s face. “You defended us - even from your friend. That's not a common occurrence for us.”

Athena shrugged, smiling sheepishly. “It's ridiculous that it happens so much at all. You're both geniuses. Probably the two smartest people in this room. If everyone realized that, they wouldn't say anything.”

The instructor, Justice, came along then and asked about their progress. They showed him their makeshift compass. After approving it, the instructor gave them a new task of purifying water of “unknown origins”. Athena was pretty sure it was drinkable already, but the point of the exercise was to pretend that it wasn't and go from there. They set to work at once.

Athena and Finnick were also sure to show off any opportunity they got. Finnick brought eyes on him with his abilities pretty easily, especially when he got his hands on a trident. Athena drew attention to herself in a big way, using the boxed-in simulation that was essentially meant to simulate the Hunger Games, with computerized, faceless figures that attacked the tribute who stepped inside from all sides. The idea was to kill twenty-three of those figures, representing the other tributes, before they could kill you to become the victor. Enobaria had held the record for the simulation, beating it in six minutes. When she found out, Athena grabbed a spear and stepped into the simulation with a mission. She beat it in five.

She kept an eye on Plutarch Heavensbee throughout the rest of the training sessions, but he didn’t seem to look at her all that much, and when he did, his face remained impassive. She supposed she could understand why; if this mission was to stay a secret, they needed to act as though there was nothing going on at all, that there was no connection between them. For all intents and purposes, he was just the Head Gamemaker. And Athena was just a tribute.

Athena and Finnick had some other responsibilities that they were made to attend to outside of training - the odd party, an early morning photoshoot, rich socialites that were desperate to meet with them and spend some time with them before they were potentially sent to meet their fates in the arena. Other than that, they had no other obligations to entertain the Capitol. Snow wasn’t selling any of the victors this time, which meant Finnick was safe in that regard.

The last day of training would end with their private audiences with the Gamemakers, where they would be evaluated. The evaluations were being treated as a bit of a joke by tributes and mentors and even escorts. The private audience with the Gamemakers was so that the tributes could show their strengths, but since all the tributes were past victors, everyone - the Gamemakers and the rest of Panem alike - already knew their strengths. It was sort of ridiculous for the Gamemakers to want a private audience to be shown things they’d already seen. Athena and Finnick had been joking around for days about what they would do. Mags would chime in with her own sarcastic suggestions. Alayne smiled in amusement and did not scold them the way they were expecting.

Even Mags, when she tried to provide them serious advice, couldn't come up with much to say.

“Do what you do best,” she said simply. “Surprise them, if you can.”

Athena didn't know what she could possibly do to surprise the Gamemakers after the stunt she'd pulled during her first evaluation; she’d taken three target dummies, written ‘Capitol’ across the chests, hung them by their necks, and ran each of them through with a spear. She thought for sure she'd be punished severely for the stunt, but instead the Gamemakers had given her one of the highest scores out of all the tributes. Finnick might have an easier time with it, since his first evaluations had been a pretty standard thing for a Career, as he'd merely shown his strength and his ability with a trident. She, on the other hand, was a little worried if she showed her skill with a spear normally that the Gamemakers would be underwhelmed compared to her first evaluation and give her a low score.

“What if I told jokes?” Athena suggested, as they laid in bed in her chambers the night before the evaluations.

“I could sing a song?” Finnick said, continuing the game they'd been playing for days now with a smile.

“Or a dance routine?”

“Strip tease?”

“Noah showed me a few notes on the piano, I could probably whip that out.”

“What if I just brought out more food and ate?”

“You'd get bonus points if you made the food yourself.”

“Good point. I could tell them a story.”

“Or sleep for fifteen minutes? I could use a nap.”

Finnick almost cracked at that one, struggling to keep a straight face and keep the game going through his laughter. “Play a card game?”

“By yourself?”

“They can join if they want.”

Athena broke at that one, laughing too hard to think if something new and continue the game. She covered her mouth with her hand to muffle the sound of her laughter.

“I win,” Finnick said triumphantly.

“Don’t get too cocky,” Athena said, curling up closer to him. “I almost got you with the sleep one.”

“Almost being the key word,” he smiled, wrapping an arm around her waist and drawing her to the warmth of his body. “You’ll have to try harder than that.”

The last training session only lasted for half a day, with evaluations starting after lunch. Everyone joked all throughout lunch about what they might do once they were in the room with the Gamemakers, but things quieted down more and more as tributes started being called in, starting with Gloss. Finnick sat next to her, so close that sometimes their hands would brush against each other when one of them moved. The brief physical contact was comforting. Occasionally, he would sign something to her, another amusing suggestion for what he might do when it came time for his evaluation. She would smile to herself and hasten to come up with a retort of her own, signing it to him. After Finnick was gone for his evaluation, she looked around at the other tributes and decided it was much easier to keep up the irreverent, invincible nature they had all taken to adopting when there was more of them.

Her eyes flickered to the clock constantly, all but counting down the fifteen minutes until it was time for her to go up to perform. But fifteen minutes came and went, and they never called her name. At first, she shrugged it off, figuring Finnick must have done something that wowed the Gamemakers so much that they lost track of time. Still, more time went by and they still weren't calling her name. It was hard not to get worried. She didn't know too much about the evaluations process, since it was kept so secret, but she did know that each individual evaluation was meant to stay strictly within the fifteen minute time frame. An evaluation that surpassed that was rare, and the likelihood of it being a good thing was slim.

“Hey,” Johanna whispered to several seats down, “what's going on in there? What's fish boy doing?”

Athena just shrugged helplessly.

Finally, after almost twenty-five minutes, they were calling her name. She wasn't exactly relieved, though, still worried for Finnick.

Contrary to what it had been like during her first evaluation, the Gamemakers were all alert the moment she walked into the gymnasium. Maybe because they knew her now. Probably because they were expecting some other big stunt. She was rather disgruntled at the almost excited expressions on their faces. She knew it was probably a good thing for her safety that they thought that her stunt during her first evaluation had been nothing but an attempt to show she'd been an interesting player and bring their attention to her. That hadn’t been on her mind at all, though. She’d been thinking only of her frustration, of her anger, of her determination to ensure that they would not erase her or ignore her after they’d sent her over here to die. The fact that they thought she’d done it for their benefit at all bothered her.

Despite the excitement on their faces, they all seemed rather tense, and considering that Finnick's evaluation had lasted significantly longer than it should've, she wondered if he had done something to upset them. Frankly, she couldn’t imagine what Finnick Odair, Capitol darling, could’ve possibly done to make a room full of Capitol citizens upset. She did remember a time, years ago, when Plutarch expressed that he wasn’t particularly fond of Finnick, but this was something else...

She searched each of the Gamemakers’ faces, then looked around at the gymnasium, looking for some sort of sign that would indicate what he did. She found nothing, though. But she knew, all of a sudden, what she would do. It was perfect; it showed what she could do, would doubtlessly surprise them, and unless he had done something particularly forbidden, would blow whatever Finnick had done to upset them out of the water.

 _They want a show?_ Athena thought to herself. _I’ll give them a fucking show._

With a sudden purpose, she strode forward, grabbed one of the target dummies, and slammed it against one of the metal tables at the camouflage station. The station was a complete and utter mess, probably due to the morphlings, but she could make do. She didn’t necessarily have the best art supplies at her disposal, she had limited time, and she was mainly going off memory, but she had seen the symbol enough times to be able to recreate it. She drew the eagle, its wings spread high, perched on a platform that had arrows coming out of it, then drew a laurel encircling it. Before long, she had finished drawing it, so large that it spanned almost the entirety of the target dummy’s abdomen: the seal of the Capitol.

She propped the dummy upright against the rack that held all of the spears, and grabbed two spears. She paused long enough to make sure the Gamemakers all saw the seal, then took several steps back and aimed her first spear. It soared straight through the other spears, hitting the target dummy right where its heart would be, and the force of it sent the light dummy flying into the force field that separated her and the Gamemakers. They all jerked back the moment the dummy hit the force field that they must have known was there, as if scared that the dummy might collide with them. Athena had no time to observe their reactions too closely, already moving into position for her next move that she would make provided she had made the right assumption. There was a force field that separated the Gamemakers from the rest of the gymnasium. There was a force field around the roof of the Training Center; if someone were to fall or jump off the roof, the force field would just fling them back up the moment they collided.

And sure enough, almost as soon the dummy collided with the force field, there was a sharp zapping sound as an electric current ran through the dummy, and then it was being flung back at top speed. Athena stood off to the side and waited for just the right moment to throw her second spear. The spear impaled the dummy right in its side, the force of it sending the dummy off kilter until it finally crashed to the ground. The dummy laid crumpled on the ground, charred, with two spears sticking out of it in the places where she had drawn the Capitol seal, which was now darkened and ruined by the charred parts of the dummy.

Athena turned to face the Gamemakers. Surprisingly, they hadn’t made much noise. Apparently, she had shocked them into silence. They were all on their feet, standing frozen, wearing stunned or comically frightened expressions on their faces. Plutarch Heavensbee was staring directly at her. His face was hard to read. She held his gaze without so much as blinking, lifting her chin, almost challengingly. They might have been working together to bring about a revolution in Panem, but she owed him nothing in these evaluations. She was just a tribute and he was just the Head Gamemaker. And she had done what she needed to do.

And so, just as she had done during her first private audience with the Gamemakers, she clicked her heels like a soldier and saluted them, before turning sharply on her heels and walking away without being dismissed. When she made it to the elevator, she saw that none of them had moved. They were staring either at her or the target dummy she had destroyed. The stunned, intimidated looks hadn’t left their faces. Once the elevator door slid closed, she was brought out of the situation and her emotions, left to reflect on what she had done and whether or not she had just made a huge mistake.

It was an overwhelming relief to see Finnick when she returned to the District Four suite, though she wasn’t entirely sure why, when she thought about it. If they’d let Athena live after her first evaluation and let Katniss live after shooting an arrow at the Gamemakers, she didn’t really know what they could do during their evaluations that would bring about outright punishment besides perhaps murdering one of the Gamemakers (which, of course, didn’t mean there wouldn’t be hell to pay indirectly, in the arena). Still, the moment they saw each other and he jumped to her feet, she rushed to meet him, grabbing onto his arms when she reached him.

“Finnick!” she said. “Are you okay? What happened during your evaluations? Where are Mags and Alayne?”

“They went to get us sponsors,” he said. “I’m fine, why wouldn’t I be?”

“Your evaluation,” Athena said, “you were in there way longer than you should’ve been... I was worried that - maybe they - what happened? What did you do in there?”

“I - it’s a bit - ” Finnick said, sighed, and then sat down, guiding her down with him - “I covered a bunch of the target dummys with berry juice so that it looked like blood and then started hitting them with their tridents - sometimes I’d stab them from up close, other times I’d throw it. At first, they were fine, because they didn’t realize what I was doing - until they realized I was using the tridents to write out the number twelve.”

“Twelve,” she repeated. “For the number of districts?”

He nodded. “After that, they got a little upset and uncomfortable. They dismissed me and I left. I can’t remember how long I was in there for, but it couldn’t have been that much longer than fifteen minutes. If it took them so long to call you in, I’m assuming clean-up took a while.”

She supposed it made sense, but there was something she wanted to know now. “Why? Why’d you do it?”

“Because,” he said, “because Mags said to surprise them and show them what I could do, and I definitely did that. And I also... I wanted to show them that that’s what they do. That’s always been what they’ve done to us. No matter what their intentions are... this is always what they do to the districts. Our blood’s always gonna be on their hands. I didn’t want to let them forget it.”

It was reckless. Completely, utterly reckless of him to do. But a part of her - a rather large part, if she was being honest with herself - thought what he did was amazing, and bubbling up inside her chest was something that felt like pride or awe or affection or love or some combination of the four. And she also knew she was the last person who could ever criticize someone on reckless behaviour during their evaluations.

“I get why you did it,” Athena said, smiling and reaching out to take his hand. She noted that both of their hands were faintly stained with a variety of colours from the camouflage station. “And I probably can’t talk considering what I did during my first evaluation... and this one.”

He raised his eyebrows at that, interested. “What’d you do?”

And so she explained what she had done when they had called her into the gymnasium, from painting the Capitol seal on a target dummy to storming away without being dismissed. When she finished, he was grinning at her, as though pleased.

“What made you pull that?”

“Well,” she said slowly, “you were in there for a long time, and they seemed a little tense, so I thought maybe you did something to upset them - now I know what, but at the time I was clueless, but I figured... maybe if I pulled some stunt... it’d make them forget about what you did? You know, in comparison, it’d seem like nothing, whatever it is you did. Also, same reason as you - Mags said to surprise them and show them what I could do, and I’m pretty sure I knocked that out of the park. And besides, the way they were looking at me when I walked in... like they were expecting a show. I realized it was because they were expecting me to really entertain them, because they remembered when I did during my first evaluation and it just... I mean, what I did was definitely reckless and it’s probably safer if they think I was just doing it to entertain them, but... I didn’t do that for them. It wasn’t for their benefit, and the fact that they thought so made me angry, I guess. So I figured if they wanted a show... I might as well really give it to them for everything they’ve done to me... to you... to everyone. And with the force field, it was almost like... I see through you. I know you and your secrets.”

He was beaming at her now. He signed, “You know I really love you, right?”

She smiled, a little sheepish, but squeezed his hand, saying, “You’re not too bad either.”

“How did you know about the force field, anyway?”

“Wiress and Beetee pointed it out to me,” Athena replied. “There was this - this one patch where you could see it. It was like the air was vibrating. They called it a flaw in the system.”

Finnick looked thoughtful. “That must be new. There’s no way it’s always been there, right?”

Athena shook her head. “Beetee said they put it up this year because Katniss Everdeen shot an arrow at the Gamemakers during her evaluation.”

Finnick stared at her.

“Apparently, she was provoked.”

“See, now, that makes what we did look minor.”

She grinned. “I wonder what she’ll do this year.”

“Kinda hard to top that.”

“I’m sure she’ll find a way.”

“True. I mean, you found a way to top what you did the first time. Speaking of which, how did they react this time?”

“Wasn’t as funny. They didn’t really talk or scream or anything this time. They just kinda stood up and stared at me. I guess some of their reactions were pretty funny - they looked all shocked and some of them looked a little afraid of me, which is kinda weird. I don’t know what they thought I could do to _them_. Anyways, what about you?”

“Their reactions were pretty funny,” he said with a grin. “One of them knocked over about half the food on the table when she realized what I was doing. Another one nearly fell out of their chair. Another one leapt to her feet, but she was right behind this one guy and bumped into him, and they almost both went down.”

They had both dissolved into laughter before he could go on. They laughed and laughed, until they were out of breath and clutching their sides. After their laughter had died down, they were silent for a time, until Athena broke it.

“There’s gonna be hell to pay for what we did, you know.”

“I know. Nothing upfront, though, I bet. It’s not like we did anything public. They’ll just make our lives hell in the arena.”

“Shouldn’t be too hard. We’ll already be in hell.”

“Good point,” Finnick conceded. “How d’you think Alayne’s gonna react?”

“She’s gonna lose her shit,” Athena said, partly amused at the thought and partly dreading it and a little guilty, too. “I think she’ll be more upset at you, though. She expects this from me. She thinks you’re better, though.”

“You’re probably right there,” Finnick admitted. “I was probably going to let her down eventually. Sooner rather than later.”

She knew at once he meant the mission. Alayne probably wasn’t going to be thrilled when she found out that the two of them and Mags were part of a rebel plan to bring down the Capitol. After a while, they parted ways to wash up before dinner. The various colours that were stained on her fingers wouldn’t come out fully no matter how hard she scrubbed at them in the shower.

 _Probably serves me right,_ she thought eventually, giving up.

By the time she was finished washing up and had dressed into a soft purple blouse and dark pants, Mags and Alayne had returned and were calling her down to dinner. As soon they were all seated and eating, Mags and Alayne were quick to ask them about how their evaluations went. Athena and Finnick exchanged looks.

“Do you want to go first,” Finnick said, “or should I?”

“I’ll get it over with,” Athena said bracingly, and then proceeded to explain what she had done during her evaluation.

For a moment, Mags and Alayne were stunned into silence. Then -

“What on _earth_ were you _thinking?_ ” came Alayne’s furious, shrill voice, just as Athena had expected it. “Just because the first time you pulled this nonsense they gave you a good score does not mean - it’s _not_ permission to do whatever you want! At a time like _this_ \- these kind of actions - what you’re doing - it’s forbidden! _It is forbidden!_ I don’t understand how you can be so foolish, so entitled to think that these actions will go unpunished! And - and serves you right, at this point - this is the _second time!_ ”

“Is now a good time to bring up what I did?” Finnick chimed in, clearly wanting to take the heat off Athena.

“And what did you do?” Alayne said in a long-suffering tone. “It can’t possibly be worse than her, can it?”

“That’s kind of subjective,” Finnick replied with a shrug, and then explained what he had done.

Sparks were close to shooting from Alayne’s eyes. “I thought you’d at least have the good sense - I expected so much better from you, Finnick.” She was silent for a moment, before looking between them and saying in disgust, “You two deserve each other. You’re just as bad as each other.”

She looked away as though she couldn’t even stand to look at them. With that, she pushed her plate away, stood up, and flounced out of the suite without another word and a few disgruntled huffs here and there. For several moments, the room was silent.

“That could’ve gone worse,” Finnick finally said decisively.

Athena and Finnick looked at each other, and then at Mags expectantly. For a moment, she just stared at them. Then -

“It _was_ reckless. And dangerous.”

They knew she wasn’t finished, though, so they just looked at her silently, waiting.

“But it definitely made an impression. It showed you both have fire in you, which is important in any arena, especially a Quarter Quell. And it’s all a show, at the end of the day. You two are at least proving you’ll put on a good one.”

“Something tells me people like Alayne won’t like the kind of show we put on,” Athena said with raised eyebrows.

“Oh, don’t worry about her,” Mags said dismissively. “She did this for your evaluation too, remember, Athena? She’ll be back when it comes time to announce the scores.”

And indeed she was, and she came with their stylists and prep team. Athena, Finnick, and Mags all sat together on one sofa, though this time it seemed to mostly be because none of the others seemed to want to be anywhere near Athena and Finnick after what they had done during their evaluations - evidently, Alayne had told the stylists and the prep team all about what they had done. Athena didn’t bother trying to defend herself, and neither did Finnick, as it was clear none of them would listen to them just then. Athena, Mags, and Finnick simply exchanged looks, and it was clear they were all thinking the same thing:

_This is how they react to some mild anti-Capitol stunt. They can never know about the mission._

The scores started to come on; first came the name of the tribute and a photo, then their score flashed below it on the screen. Athena began wondering, truly wondering, what kind of score they’d get. Mags brought up a good point about making an impression and showing they had fire that they’d bring to the arena, but she didn’t know if that would result in them getting a decent score. Since they came from a Career district and were in pretty good shape, everyone would be expecting no less than an eight from them. If they got any less than that... would it put a target on their back for any other tributes that weren’t in on the mission? If more tributes were coming for them, that meant more danger coming Katniss and Peeta’s way, which was the last thing they wanted for the mission... and if they scored less than an eight, would the love that the Capitol had for them hold out, or would they lose any hope in decent sponsorships? She was starting to wish she’d just shown off with her spear for fifteen minutes then left.

Cashmere, Gloss, Brutus, and Enobaria all got predictably high scores. Wiress and Beetee managed to score a five and a six respectively. And then Finnick’s name and photo appeared on the screen. Athena straightened up at once, her eyes glued to the television. The number eleven flashed on the screen. Eleven. He got an eleven.

“Finnick,” she said breathlessly, grabbing his hand, “holy shit - eleven!”

“I see,” Finnick murmured. “I was not expecting that...”

Athena’s name and photo appeared next. Athena tensed again at once, biting her lip, but before long, to her surprise, the number eleven was flashing on the screen again.

“I - both of us?” she said, stunned. “How?”

“How on _earth_ ,” Alayne began, utterly incensed, “could they have _possibly_ \- ?”

“You made an impression,” Mags said firmly, smiling. “I mean, you showed you’re pretty handy with your weapons, and you had passion. Of course, they couldn’t give you a perfect score, considering what you did, so... they gave you the next best thing.”

“Unbelievable,” Alayne muttered. “Un _believable_.”

The rest of the tributes scored in the low to medium range, except for Katniss and Peeta, who made Hunger Games history by both pulling a score of twelve. This brought about even more surprise than Athena’s and Finnick’s high scores.

“What could they have done to manage that?” Tatiana murmured, stunned.

“They must’ve done something really good,” said Syrio.

Athena’s and Finnick’s eyes found each other at once, exchanging significant looks. She knew they were both thinking of what Katniss had done last year. Had she done something similar or gone a safer route? She must have done something big, but what could be bigger than shooting an arrow at the Gamemakers? And what did Peeta do?

“Well,” Syrio said, after they were done displaying the scores, “that only leaves the interviews. You wait until you see the outfits we’ve made for you.”

“Is it anything like our outfits for the opening ceremonies?” Athena asked slowly, a little uneasy at the wide grin on his face (he and the other stylists became much more relaxed after their scores had been announced; once again, it seemed if the Gamemakers weren’t upset, then they had no reason to be, either. Alayne still seemed a little stiff, though).

“We’ve gone a slightly different route,” Tatiana said, and relief coursed through her.

“Thank fucking God,” Finnick muttered from beside her, and she and Mags had to try very, very hard to bite back a laugh.

Everyone dispersed afterwards. Athena, Finnick, and Mags all stayed together, talking quietly until everyone made for bed. Athena changed again, waited for a little under half an hour until everything seemed silent all throughout the suite, messed up her sheets to make them look like they had been slept in, and then snuck over to join Finnick, leaning into him as he wrapped an arm around her waist.

“Eleven,” she murmured, after a moment of silence.

“I know,” he said. “I’m still surprised. I wasn’t expecting any more than an eight. _Maybe_ a nine... you don’t think Plutarch...?”

She knew what he meant at once; that perhaps Plutarch understood that it was important to their survival, and thus Katniss’ and Peeta’s survival, that they didn’t lose sponsors and become a bigger target, and thus influenced the other Gamemakers and used his power as Head Gamemakers to ensure that they got the expected high scores. It would make sense, but if Plutarch showed any bias towards her and Finnick, would it be risking exposing the mission? Was it a risk he’d be willing to take?

"I don’t know,” she said finally .”It’d make sense, but... I don’t know if he’d risk it for us.

“Maybe we just shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth,” he said thoughtfully.

She hummed in agreement. “Maybe.”

They fell silent for a long time, not asleep, but together.

“You know what I should've done?” Finnick said finally. “Two words: magic show.”

“Oh, what about a gymnastics routine?” Athena suggested lightly, continuing the game immediately.

“I should've just had a nice long chat with the Gamemakers. You know, be myself. Let my glowing personality shine through.”

“I should've painted them a picture.”

“Of what?”

“I don't know, something nice and uncontroversial. A sunset or something. The ocean.”

“Please,” Finnick scoffed, “you can't do uncontroversial during the evaluations to save your life. You'd have drawn something that sent them into cardiac arrest.”

Athena grinned and knew she couldn't argue considering her track record. “Controversial or not, I'd have made it real pretty.”

“You did kind of paint them a picture,” Finnick conceded.

“Yeah, I just didn’t stop at that, did I?” Athena grinned.

“Maybe I could’ve written them a poem on the spot.”

“I could’ve shown them how long I can hold my breath for.”

“Or I could’ve mimicked everything they did perfectly. It’d be like they were looking in a mirror.”

“I could’ve sculpted a statue.”

“What if I showed them how much I could drink without passing out? Maybe have a drinking contest with them?”

“Staring contest with the Gamemakers?”

He cracked at that one, breaking down and laughing too hard to think of another retort and keep the game going. Athena grinned.

“I win.”

“Yeah, whatever, Maris,” he murmured. “I’ll let you have it, just don’t get too cocky.”

“That’s rich, coming from you,” she said with a yawn, though she was smiling.

Just then, her eyes landed on something that was on his bedside table, something vibrant and blue. Athena reached out to grab the necklace of blue seashells she had made for Finnick three years ago. For a moment, she simply stared at the necklace, before shifting over to face Finnick, holding up the necklace.

“Why do you wear this necklace?” Athena asked, turning the bright blue shells over in her fingers. “Why did you bring it with you?”

“Because you made it for me,” he said simply.

“That's it?” she said, raising her eyebrows.

“It's enough for me,” he shrugged. “I took it with me when Snow made me come to the Capitol a few months ago. It's what I always do, ever since you gave it to me. I keep you with me that way. So that when Snow forces me to sleep with whoever has the highest bid, when he tries to take me away from you, you're still the closest thing to me. No matter how close they try to be, you're still closer. You always are.”

Athena didn't think. She placed the necklace aside, took his face in her hands and kissed him desperately, clutching onto him as though scared to let go. He kissed her back immediately, rolling over so that he was on top of her, gripping onto her hips and sighing something that sounded like her name into her mouth.

“I'm considering taking it into the arena,” he murmured between kisses. “Since the bracelet’s getting snuck in, I can make that my official token. It might draw some attention, but - ”

“Don't,” she said, then pulled away to get the message across clearer. “Don't, Finnick. We can't take risks. This mission is supposed to be a secret to people inside and outside the arena. Two tokens might be a little noticeable. Besides,” she said, pulling him back to her and planting tiny kisses along his face, “if we go back home, I can make you a thousand necklaces.”

“A thousand?” he repeated, looking at her in interest.

“Why not?” she shrugged. “If I make one a day, I'd be done in less than three years. Or,” she continued playfully, “if I make ten a day, it would only take a hundred days, and then you'd have a thousand sea shell necklaces in less than a year. And then you'll never have to wear one more than once in a year - two years, even.”

“Tempting offer,” he said with a smile. “I might take you up on that.”

“I expect you to.”

She grabbed him by the front of his shirt and pulled her down to him, kissing him once, twice, three times, lingering on the third kiss. They got lost in each other in the moment, thinking of little else, which Athena figured was probably a good thing, because it kept them from thinking about the elephant in the room. The elephant in the room being the slim likelihood of Athena’s offer to make him a thousand seashell necklaces ever actually happening. The elephant in the room being the fact that it was very, very likely that Athena and Finnick would never see their home again


	15. XIV

**XIV**

 

The next day was to be dedicated to preparing Athena and Finnick for their interviews. As it was, though, there really was not much for them to do. After all, Athena had been in the public eye for six years, and Finnick for a decade. They had both learned and perfected how to conduct themselves for public appearances long ago. Practicing etiquette with Alayne only took a little over an hour rather than the usual four hours, and it was mainly to ensure that they already could do everything perfectly, rather than teaching them anything new. Mags, however, spent some more time with them when it came to talk content.

“Now, a lot of these tributes feel desperate and angry,” Mags was saying. “They're gonna do and say anything to get these Games cancelled. Tugging on Capitol heartstrings during these interviews is one big way to do it.”

“There's no way that’ll happen,” Finnick said at once. “Snow's never gonna back down, especially not at this point.”

“Probably,” Mags agreed. “But there's not much to lose from trying, is there? And if you can make everyone watching you not only love you, but feel something for you, make them want to protect you? You'll have tons of sponsorships sealed. So... let's go over the stuff we've been practicing.”

They spent some time practicing the angles they would use for their interviews, breaking briefly in the middle for lunch. Everything went smoothly, though talking about the significant others somehow became even more tense now that Athena and Finnick knew they were talking about the other but had to pretend they weren't. Still, they had been working on this for months now, so before long they had perfected what they wanted to do and any more practice served little purpose.

“It's clear you both know how to handle yourselves,” Mags said, about an hour or so after lunch. “You really don't need any more practice. You’ve been doing this long enough. You're ready. And good thing, too, that you don't need me anymore. I have dinner plans, you see.”

“Dinner plans,” Finnick repeated, his brow furrowed. “With who?”

“President Snow.”

Athena's heart stopped dead, fear seizing it. Athena and Finnick just stared at her, stunned into silence. Mags simply stared back at them, and though her face seemed relatively calm, buried under the surface was a tenseness. Why did Snow want to see Mags? Why didn't he invite Athena or Finnick or Alayne or anyone else in the District Four crew? Would she be alone?

“Is - is it for all the mentors?” Athena asked tentatively.

Mags smiled, understanding what Athena was really asking. “No, from what I understand this is a private event.”

Which meant that Mags would be alone. Athena felt even more frightened than before.

“And you're not - are you excited?” Finnick said.

“I... I'm a little caught off guard,” Mags admitted. “But President Snow doesn't invite someone to a private dinner every day... it's not something you turn down once the opportunity comes up.”

Athena understood at once; Mags had no choice but to go. What would he say to her? What would he do? Would he punish her? What was she supposed to have done wrong, though? There was no way he knew about the mission, did he? No, there was no way... if he did, certainly they would all be dead or at least imprisoned? Certainly he wouldn't let them continue on if he thought at all that there was a chance they might be rebelling?

Mags clearly noted the fearful expressions on their faces, because she said, as reassuringly as possible, “I'll be back right after. You won't even know I'm gone.”

This sounded unlikely when she said it, and proved to be entirely untrue once she was gone. Mags’ absence seemed like a real, physical thing that pressed upon them, insisting on being noticed, on being felt. The lack of noise that came from her rough, quiet voice or the sound of her cane against the floor or her happy, bark-like laughter; the empty seat at the table while they ate; the space she always seemed to fill, like she belonged in any and every room she walked into. Her absence was impossible to ignore. Every minute she was away felt like an hour, another way for President Snow to harm her. Neither Athena or Finnick could sit still. Athena paced up and down the sitting room, while Finnick sat on the sofa with a length of rope, tying and untying knots over and over.

“Dinner,” he murmured after a long silence. “He invited her over for dinner... you know what everyone always says Snow’s weapon of choice is? Poison... poison... he uses poison...”

Used essentially a sex slave, Finnick was forced into the beds of powerful, wealthy Capitol citizens. They were willing to give him anything he asked for - money, jewels, more - but he found satisfaction in any secrets they had, and there was an abundance of secrets about President Snow, many about how often he used poison to achieve his ends, be it poisoning enemies, potential political adversaries, people in his own circle that had the chance to become a threat... if he wanted to hurt or even kill Mags, that would be how he did it.

But _why_ would he poison Mags? Why Mags and no one else? Not the other mentors involved in the plan, not Haymitch, not Plutarch... it didn’t make sense... unless, of course, he’d already gotten to the others... but would he kill so many mentors? What was the point? Wouldn’t it make more sense for him to kill Plutarch and rig the arena to kill Katniss, Peeta, and all the tributes involved in the mission? What would killing Mags do?

Then again, maybe he didn’t intend to kill Mags at all. Maybe he only meant to question her, try to coax answers out of her to confirm or deny suspicions he might have. Mags was smart and she was loyal, she wouldn’t give him anything, but what would happen then? If he was unsatisfied with the answers she gave, what would he do to her then? Would he harm her or let her go?

Either way, she had no way of knowing, because they were trapped there without any information, without any way of knowing what Snow was thinking and what he might do. They weren’t supposed to contact any of the other tributes or their mentors now that training was over, and they couldn’t ask Alayne to send some sort of message for them, because she had gone out with friends of hers with the intention of convincing them to sponsor Athena and Finnick and they had no idea when she’d be back or how to reach her, either.

“What if we go?” Finnick said suddenly, looking up from the length of rope, once the sky outside started to turn dark.

“Us?”

“Yeah,” he said. “What if we went to the mansion? Maybe we could stop him from hurting her - ”

“Or maybe we’ll make things worse,” Athena said, sitting down across from him and running a hand through her hair. She switched to sign language. “What do we do, just go charging through? That won’t work, and you’re smarter than that, so let’s think this through. Let's be smart about this. We’re not supposed to be at that mansion, we’re not even supposed to leave the Training Center, so what does that leave? Do we sneak out?”

Finnick looked thoughtful at that. He seemed to be coming out of a reverie, the gears in his head turning at top speed. There it was, strategic Finnick, fiercely clever Finnick, Finnick who made plans, who made things happen.

He leaned back in his seat and signed, “First thing would be to get past the Peacekeepers. If we’re going to do that, we’ll have to - ”

But he stopped when the elevator doors opened. They both whipped around to see Mags making her slow way into the suite.

“Mags!” they said in unison, leapt to their feet, and rushed to meet her.

“Where’s Alayne?” was the first thing to leave her mouth.

“Out,” said Finnick, “with some friends, says she might get them to sponsor us.”

Athena and Finnick were guiding Mags towards the sofa, but she shook her head abruptly and said, “Balcony.”

Athena and Finnick exchanged looks, but did as she said, changing course towards the balcony. The lights of the city twinkled all around them in the dark night sky and a slight breeze blew their hair and clothes about.

“What happened?” Finnick asked. “Did he do anything? Did he try - did he try to - ?”

“Nothing you’re thinking of,” Mags said firmly. She switched to sign language. “I expect if he tried to poison me, I would know by now.”

Athena found she still wasn’t entirely comforted by this. “What did he want you there for? What did he talk about? Was anyone else there?”

“No, it was just us,” said Mags. “He certainly... gave off the impression of simply wanting to talk. Said he's an old fan of mine, ever since my Games... he did ask a lot of questions, though.”

“What kind of questions?” Finnick said tensely.

“Questions about me. My life. Questions about both of you. Questions about how things are going as mentor. Questions about... about my motivations this year... about my loyalty, where it lies... about the other mentors, their motivations and their loyalty...”

Athena and Finnick had both straightened up, utterly tense. Fear and anxiety spread throughout her entire body, swelling in her chest, seeping into her bones. They had already been speaking in low tones, but her voice dropped to a whisper now, “Why did he want to know?”

“He said he’s worried for us... for all of Panem... he said he viewed us - all of us victors - as old friends, almost family... he said if he ever got the faintest idea that we were doing something forbidden that he would - he would be forced to act, quickly and severely. And he said - he said you’d understand this best, Athena - he warned me of the dangers of straying from the harbour.”

And it had been so long ago, during the party in the Capitol near the end of her Victory Tour, but she remembered it so vividly it might have been yesterday. The painting of a man and a woman on a unsturdy boat that was falling to pieces on stormy waters. The man and the woman looked terrified, clutching onto each other, looking skyward, as though for searching for light that did not exist in the dark grey, cloudy sky. She could still hear Snow's voice, explaining to her that the painting represented the districts during the Dark Days, how they chose to believe in the rebel cause that ultimately could not protect or sustain them, essentially leaving them stranded at sea with no hope of being rescued.

“It feels like a good reminder,” Snow had said, “of what happens to those who stray too far from the harbour.”

Athena had never been too sure of this interpretation, though. It was made by an artist from Districts Four during the Dark Days, leaving her inclined to believe that the painting was actually meant to be for the rebellion, rather than against it. She’d thought it was instead supposed to represent all the lies Panem and the Capitol was built on, beginning to crumble as the rebellion raged on, unable to withstand the storm. She knew better than to ever voice that thought out loud, though.

“What?” Finnick said sharply to her, evidently noticing the recognition on her face. “What is it? What does it mean?”

“It - it’s this painting he has in his mansion,” Athena replied slowly. “It’s of this man and woman on a boat that’s falling apart in the middle of a storm. The water’s about to drown them. He says it represents the districts during the Dark Days, says it’s warning of what happens when you stray from the harbour. If he’s bringing it up to Mags, it means...”

She didn’t finish her sentence, but it wasn’t necessary that she did. It was evident what it meant. If Snow was bringing up that painting, the painting he thought represented the consequences of rebelling against the Capitol, then he must be at least a little suspicious of another full-scale rebellion occurring right under his nose.

“And what did you say?” Finnick asked, his brow furrowed, his arms crossed, and his entire body rigid.

“I said he had nothing to worry about,” Mags said, and though her face seemed mainly calm, she could sense a fearfulness there. “That I would never so much as dream about doing anything forbidden, and neither would you two. That the only thought in my mind is to get my two tributes through the arena. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“And what did he say then?” Athena asked.

“He didn’t seem fully convinced,” Mags said. “He questioned me for longer. But everything I said kept coming back to that. I had nothing else to say, and I made it clear that’s all I’d ever have to say to him.” Meaning Mags essentially told him she'd never give him the answers he was looking for. “Eventually, he got the message.”

Athena doubted it would be so easy as that, though. Snow probably was unsatisfied with what she had said to him, and there was no way he would let the matter go. Would he summon her again? Would he target someone else? Torture for information the next time around? Threaten them if they didn't give him the information he was seeking? She certainly wouldn't put it past him.

“Haymitch and Plutarch,” Athena whispered. “We should talk to them, tell them about this - ”

But Mags was shaking her head, signing, “No. No communication with anyone outside of our team. Talking to them would look more suspicious.”

“She’s right,” Finnick signed, “talking to them would just put her more on the map. Besides, Plutarch is Snow’s right hand man in a lot of ways, he’ll know about this dinner before long, I’m sure of it.”

“But - but we can’t just do nothing,” Athena signed, frowning. “We have to - we have to - ”

“What?” Mags signed, but she had a gentle look on her face. “What could we do? There’s nothing we can do that won’t make things seem more suspicious. We need to make Snow think nothing is going on, and the best way to do that is to not do anything. There’s no way of knowing he’s even caught wind of the plan; these are tense times in Panem, uprisings are starting up in more than one district, he could just be paranoid - trying to stop something before it can start.”

That seemed unlikely, though. Snow did not seem to be the type to act on paranoia - or any emotion - alone.

“Mags is right,” said Finnick, surprising her, considering this was the man who was discussing barging into President Snow's mansion uninvited not too long ago. “You told me to be smart about this, so I am, and there’s nothing we can do that won’t seem more suspicious. The best way to stay under the radar is to not do anything, lay low.”

It felt so horribly like leaving Mags’ safety up to chance, up to the mere hope that perhaps Snow might decide that there was nothing going on after all and let the matter drop. Still, a part of her knew that they were right. There was nothing they could really do that wouldn't arouse more suspicious. Telephone calls could be traced and recorded, and if they left the suite, cameras would follow them everywhere and show what they were doing. At a time like this, even the most innocent interaction could be taken out of context and blown out of proportion to appear incriminating. The only way to get Snow off their back about this was to make things seem like everything was normal, and the only way to convince him if that was to _act_ like everything was normal and carry on as usual. And besides, Finnick had a point about Plutarch being Snow's right-hand man; it was likely Plutarch already knew about this and was working to fix things, setting up any countermoves he might have.

Still, she was overwhelmed with fear and worry for Mags. She wanted to do something that could protect her - but, of course, she couldn’t protect Mags. She might be able to protect Finnick, Katniss, and Peeta from immediate death in the arena, but outside of that, she couldn’t protect anybody, not really, not even herself. She’d never been able to, no matter how hard she tried. And so there Mags was, exposed and unprotected from Snow’s wrath, the seemingly endless reach of his power. And Athena could do nothing, nothing at all, to help this person she cared about and loved so very much -

“Athena?” Mags said, concern evident in her tone.

It occurred to her that they were waiting for her to say something. She didn’t speak. She wasn’t sure she had the words. Instead, she took a step forward and wrapped her arms around Mags in a tight hug. Mags hugged her back fiercely at once. She felt so frail under her arms. Mags was a strong woman, Athena knew it well, but it felt like she might break if Athena wasn’t careful about how she held her. There were moments, horrible, sometimes fleeting, sometimes lingering moments where Athena was reminded of Mags’ mortality, reminded of the fact that she was old and she would die soon and Athena would likely be around to see it (it was one of the few good things about this Quarter Quell that she could find; if she died in the arena, she’d never have to see Mags or any of her loved ones back home die). Right now, coupled with the larger target that had now been placed on her back, it was almost impossible to ignore.

 _She’s so old, it’s been so long since she’s been the center of the Capitol’s attention,_ Athena thought. _Snow might even think hurting her would be a minor thing. He might not think it'd be a big deal, killing her and tossing her aside -_

Athena forced it from her mind, unable to bear thinking about it. She hugged Mags a little closer to her instead. When they pulled away, Athena gave her a significant look and a nod that meant to say that she understood what they were saying and she agreed and she loved her. Mags gave her a look in return that said the latter.

Finnick pulled Mags into a tight hug. Athena and Mags were close to each other in height, Athena only had an inch or two over her, but Finnick towered over them both, tall enough to place his chin on top of Mags’ head when they embraced. She knew Finnick enough to know that he was trying his best to control it, to reign it back in, but she could see the vulnerability show through on his face, as though slipping through the cracks. As anxious as Athena felt, she knew Finnick must feel even more terrified; Mags had practically raised him, had saved him on more than one occasion. Family to Finnick was Athena, Mags, and Annie; Annie was all the way in District Four, admittedly as close to safe as any of them could get, Athena was going into the arena with him, and now Mags... she knew it was with immense difficulty and tight control that he was remaining calm at all.

“You're gonna be safe,” Finnick murmured to Mags, almost as if he was trying to will her safety into existence. “You're going to be safe, you're going to be fine. They won't touch you.”

They pulled away before long, and they were all left to wish that Finnick's words could ever be guaranteed.

 

*

 

Athena and Finnick didn't sleep for most of the night. They had gone to bed late, neither of them wanting part ways with Mags, as though she might disappear if they weren’t there to watch after her, until Alayne said they really needed to be well rested for their interviews and Mags agreed. Still, they didn’t sleep. They didn't talk, either. Quite suddenly, it felt like there was nothing to say. They were both thinking about Mags, and they both knew it.

At some point in the middle of the night, Athena turned to see that his face were wet with silent tears. It looked like he was fighting to keep them back but couldn’t do it any longer. Athena’s heart, if possible, felt even heavier than before. She turned over so that she was facing him, before reaching a hand out slowly towards him. She paused before she could touch him, though, giving him a questioning look, silently asking for permission. He nodded once. Her hand went to his chest, and her fingers began tracing images of anything that came to mind. She drew Mags first; the wrinkles of her face, wispy hair, welcoming eyes, a kind smile. After that, she drew the waves of the ocean, Hudson, her mother, Calypso, one of the houses in Victor's Village, Annie, Roman and Casper drinking with Noah and Murphy, a bunch of the shops and stands at the marketplace, Lillian reading a book, Penelope and Talisa, a noose, a long length of rope, a net, _The Morning Light._ Anything and everything that she thought of, she traced along his chest. She wasn't sure if he could even tell what she was drawing, but she also didn't think it mattered. She could feel his body relaxing beneath her touch. Still, neither of them spoke. The only sounds were their breathing, the ticking of a clock, and Alayne’s snoring in the distance.

An hour or so before dawn, Finnick shifted slowly and slipped out of bed. It was a good idea, really. Their stylists and prep team would be waking them bright and early to prepare them for their interviews with Caesar Flickerman later on in the evening. It was best that they weren’t in bed together when it happened.

Athena wanted to call him back - she wasn't sure why, if she had something to say or if she just wanted to be close to him for a little longer - but the words refused to leave her mouth. As though he read her mind, though, he paused once he passed the bed and turned to look at her. He drifted over to where she was lying, leaned down, and kissed her once, long and lingering and soft. Athena kissed him back at once, taking his face in her hands, her fingers curling in his hair, and realized that she had only wanted him close to her for a little longer. When they pulled away, it was several moments before he opened his eyes again, as though determined to remain suspended in the moment, to keep the rest of reality at bay. When he finally did, she saw that his eyes were still bright and shining and realized that he was not out of tears yet.

“I - I'll see you soon,” he said, his voice hoarse, the first full sentence either of them had spoken since he joined her in her chambers.

She nodded, and he straightened up again. She watched him disappear through the door from where she was lying in bed, feeling almost trapped underneath the covers. The room felt emptier now. The bed felt colder. She felt restless. She turned over in bed so that she was lying on her stomach, squeezing her eyes shut tight and burying her head in the numerous pillows. At some point, she figured she must have fallen asleep, because everything stayed dark until she was being roused by her prep team, who were gathered around her bed, peering down at her. It was probably at least partially the minimal amount of time she spent sleeping, but she didn’t feel well-rested at all. She wasn’t so worried about her looks, though; it was her prep team’s job to take care of things like dark circles under her eyes that made her look as unrested as she felt.

Athena lying in bed seemed to be an emotional sight for her prep team, because they all looked down at her with sad, grief-stricken expressions on their faces, and Ajax brought a hand to his mouth, his eyes watering.

“Ajax,” Leto said sternly, though his lower lip was quivering, “you remember what Tatiana told us last night. We have a job to do. The job comes first.”

“I know, I know,” Ajax said quickly. “Oh, I know... I can do this. I can do this.”

But he only seemed to get more emotional at a rapid pace, so that before long, he was excusing himself from the room, full-on sobbing. Athena stared after him, concerned, before turning toward Leto and Hestia uncertainly.

“Should we - ?” she began.

"No,” Leto said, looking as though he was trying his best to be strong. “Tatiana wanted us to be sure we stayed focus on doing our job of making you look your best. That means if we get - if we get emotional, then we leave the room and we don’t come back until we’re good to work. No more - no more tears until we’re sure we’ve done right by you.”

“Oh,” Athena said dimly. “Oh.”

She wasn’t sure what she was supposed to say to that, extremely aware that the reason they were so emotional was because she would be entering the arena tomorrow, but they didn’t give her a chance to say anything. When they saw how exhausted she looked, they offered her a plethora of the brightly coloured pills that they always used to wake themselves up in the morning, but she refused them and instead ordered a cup of coffee by speaking into the mouthpiece, before it appeared, hot and steaming, less than a minute later. By the time she was finished with her coffee and ready to be done up by her prep team, Ajax had returned to the room, taking deep breaths and straightening himself up, more composed than before.

That was far from the last time one of them had to excuse themselves for several minutes because they got too emotional. One on occasion, Hestia had to leave the room for nearly half an hour before she could come back and continue working. The person who was the best at enduring and had to leave the room the least was Leto (who Athena supposed had always sort of been the leader of the three), almost rigid with the determination to stay composed.

The room was quiet. The usual babble had been suspended. They would only speak to have her raise her chin or tilt her body just so or comment on some makeup technique. The only other noises came from the occasional sniffle or sigh one of them would give and the noises that always accompanied their work, the sound of waxing her body of any hair she might have grown in five days, the inevitably hiss of pain from Athena that came with it, the snipping of scissors. Athena didn't much like the silence for two reasons; one, because she’d been hoping that their ceaseless chatter would distract her from her worry for Mags, and two, because the fact that even her prep team couldn’t keep their usual excited nature felt like confirmation that she was doomed. There was something almost mournful about the silence, as though they were preparing her for her death rather than just her interview.

When they were finished, Tatiana came in carrying the garment bag that held the dress Athena would wear, approved the work they had done and dismissed them. They lingered for a moment, though. Leto reached out to take her hands tightly in his.

“We just wanted to say,” he said, his voice trembling and his eyes shining, “that it's been the absolute greatest honour and pleasure to know you and make you look your best.”

Athena’s heart sank. Her prep team. Her colourful, shallow, excitable, eager prep team with their obsession with parties and glitter and gossip found a way to break her heart with their goodbye. She'd never been able to hate or even dislike them, since they did seem to want the best for her, in their own misguided way. Now it felt particularly impossible after that goodbye and the way they tried so hard to keep their emotional state from being a burden to her (at Tatiana’s counsel, it seemed, but the thought was there).

“I - thank you,” Athena choked out. “It’s been great to know you, too.”

They broke at Athena’s words. They all rushed to engulf her in a hug - still being careful not to mess up any of the work they had done on her, she noted - before hastening from the room. The sound of sobs sounded from the other side of the door as soon as it was closed. Athena stared at the spot they disappeared from moments before, until Tatiana stepped in front of her, distracting her.

“How were they?” Tatiana asked, gazing at her carefully.

Athena suspected that even if her prep team had been a blubbering mess the entire time she still wouldn’t have the heart to rat them out, so she just said, “They were good. They did great. They were professional.”

Tatiana gave an approving nod at that, smiling. “That’s what I like to hear. No tears as long as we have a job to do, Athena, and I meant that. I had to remind Alayne this morning.”

“Alayne?” Athena repeated, surprised. “She was getting emotional? Over Finnick, I suppose,” she said, when Tatiana nodded.

“Actually, over both of you,” said Tatiana. “She cares much more than you give her credit for.”

Athena frowned, thoughtful at that. She shifted in place, a little uncomfortable, and hastened to change the subject. She nodded at the bag that Tatiana was still carrying, saying, “So, what's the theme today?”

Tatiana straightened up, clearly excited to be talking business. “For tonight, Syrio and I decided to turn you and Finnick into the people that sail the seas.”

When Tatiana didn't elaborate, Athena realized she was supposed to guess. “Um - sailors? Fishermen - ?”

“Pirates!” Tatiana burst out, apparently unable to wait any longer.

“Pirates,” Athena repeated.

Tatiana nodded excitedly. Athena wasn’t sure how they could still surprise her at this point.

“It’s not what you think,” Tatiana said, noticing the look on her face. “It’s not full-on pirates. Just... _inspired_ by them! It’s way more obvious on Finnick than you, anyway, you just have elements of it. You’ll be more like... a pirate queen.”

"I - okay,” Athena said slowly. “So what exactly am I wearing?”

Tatiana smiled. “You’ll see in a second. Close your eyes and hold up yours arms.”

Athena did as she was told. Tatiana took off the thin silk robe that covered Athena and slipped a dress made of a light, soft, flowing material on her. Tatiana then helped guide her into her heels and laced them up for her. There were several prolonged moments of adjusting and fidgeting, Tatiana muttering things to herself that were hard to make out, before it stopped.

“Okay,” Tatiana said, satisfaction evident in her tone. “Open your eyes.”

Athena opened her eyes, looked into the mirror, and for the first time, truly took in her appearance. The dress was dark green, like the colour of seaweed or the depths of a murky sea. It was floor-length, with a slit on one side that reached the top of her thigh and made itself evident whenever she walked. The neckline was a ‘V’ shape that plunged to about halfway between her breasts, there was a black belt at the waist that brought out her figure more prominently, and though the dress didn’t feel tight, it still managed to cling onto all the curves of her body. The dress had a cape of the same colour as the dress that stopped a couple inches from the floor. The heels were black and towering, with straps that laced up to about halfway up her calves.

Tatiana was right; very little of the dress made her think of a pirate. It was more evident in her makeup, the dark eye makeup with silver and gold accents, the dramatic highlights of silver and gold, and her lips painted a dark, blood red colour. The dark, bold, thick eyeliner was smudged, which should’ve looked awful but worked for some reason, making her eyes stand out and giving her a sort of mysterious, dangerous look to her. Despite the amount of bold makeup on her, there was still something distinctly recognizable about her. Her prep team had turned her skin to smooth, glowing satin. Her hair was kept in its natural curly state and loose, with tiny braids here and there, and she wore a golden hoop earrings and a crown of blue seashells.

“We had the crown made to match that necklace Finnick brought with him,” Tatiana explained, reaching forward to adjust it. “You know, the one with the pretty blue shells? He’s wearing it tonight. Your outfits have some similarities, but the crown and the necklace will mark you as a team. And the crown marks you as a queen. So? What do you think?”

They did certainly make her look beautiful, radiant, mesmerizing, sexy, even. She'd be unforgettable to the Capitol, who'd doubtlessly fawn over every part of her in this outfit, especially with the slit up her thigh and the plunging neckline.

“Thank you, Tatiana,” she found herself saying. “This is absolutely incredible. You’ve really outdone yourself.”

Tatiana beamed at that, looking genuinely affected by the praise. “Thank you... I really wanted to make sure - this year especially, for you... I wanted it to _perfect_... never mind that. Come on, move around a bit.”

Tatiana had her walk and move her body all around in the dress and shoes. Several years ago, she wouldn’t have been able to walk in heels this high, but she’d grown accustomed to heels even higher than this long ago and could walk with ease and only minor foot cramping. The dress and the cape hung in such a way that she didn’t have to lift her skirts or watch her step while she walked, and she was glad that she’d have one less thing to worry about during her interview. The shoes and the dress both fit her perfectly, so Tatiana finished her off by having her twirl around in her gown. As she did, the dress did seem to remind her oddly of seaweed swaying gently underwater.

“Perfect!” Tatiana said, delighted. “You’re ready!”

At that moment, there was a loud knock on the door and Alayne’s voice was calling out, “All ready? We’ll be late before long!”

Tatiana gestured towards the door, and Athena strode forward to open the door. Alayne let out a rather dramatic gasp as soon as she saw Athena. For a moment, she merely stared, and Athena was surprised to see her eyes watering. Tatiana had been right; Alayne really had been getting emotional over both her _and_ Finnick.

“Oh, Athena,” she said quietly, taking her arms in her hands. “You always have been so, so gorgeous...” Alayne made herself straighten up, dabbing at her eyes delicately to stop the flow of any tears that might have escaped her eyes. She looked at Athena and said, in a stronger, firmer voice, “You go show them what real beauty looks like. Come on.”

And before Athena could say anything at all to that, Alayne was leading the way towards the elevators, with Tatiana bringing up the rear. The rest of the District Four team was waiting by the elevators. The way they all stared at her when she walked in made her slightly uncomfortable, though she knew before long crowds of thousands would be gazing up at her, and even more would be staring from home. Her prep team, who had clearly taken some time to recover, looked close to sobbing all over again at the sight of her and had to work very hard to remain composed.

“You look beautiful, Athena,” Mags said with a smile.

“Yeah,” Finnick said breathlessly, looking her up and down, before his eyes settled on her face again, “amazing.”

“Thanks,” she said sheepishly. “You don’t look too bad yourselves.”

It was evident Syrio and his team had been hard at work on Finnick, as well. He was dressed in a white linen shirt with a ‘V’ neckline that plunged almost down to his navel, a green sash and matching baggy pants that were the same colour as Athena’s dress, held into place by a black leather belt, and black combat boots. Just as Tatiana had said, he was wearing the necklace of blue seashells, and she was a little surprised to see that the shells Tatiana had gotten for her crown matched the ones Athena had found on the cave floor three years ago perfectly. His hair looked like it’d been combed to perfect neatness, before being tousled methodically. Their outfits did have enough similarities to make them look like a team, especially with the necklace and crown of seashells.

 _King and Queen of pirates?_ Athena thought. _God, that’s corny._

She knew the Capitol would eat it up, though, so she couldn’t complain.

Alayne ushered them hurriedly into the elevator, which took them to the bottom level of the Training Center. Outside the Training Center, she saw the stage on which the interviews would be taking place. The first time she had done this, she had been so nervous she felt nearly sick with it. She felt rather calm now, though. Snow she was terrified of, but these Capitol crowds she had wrapped around her finger, and she’d done this enough times to know how to keep them there.

“As you know,” Mags was saying to Athena and Finnick, and Athena had never quite become accustomed to having to look down at her whenever she wore heels, “Alayne and I will be near the front, and your stylists will be at the very front. If you get stuck or nervous, look to us. Remember to smile and look pretty.”

Athena and Finnick nodded, bade the others goodbye, and joined the line of other tributes.

“How do you feel about this new idea?” Finnick asked her quietly.

“It’s... something else. I mean... pirates. Really?”

“I’m just glad neither of us have to wear an eyepatch,” he said, and she laughed.

Before long, a hush fell over the tributes, and it was not hard to find the cause. Katniss and Peeta had arrived - dressed to get married, it seemed. Athena remembered the night the theme for the Quarter Quell was announced; right before, they had broadcasted all the potential dresses Katniss would wear for her wedding, which would be voted on by the Capitol. Athena supposed the dress Katniss was wearing then was the winning gown. It was beautiful, to be sure, heavy white silk, with a low neckline, a tight waist, and sleeves that fell from her wrists to the floor. There were pearls everywhere, stitched into the dress and in ropes at her throat and forming her crown for the veil. Peeta was dressed in an elegant tuxedo and white gloves, the sort of thing grooms in the Capitol wore.

At first, Athena was stunned at the sight of them. Then, she became sympathetic and rather angry for them. This seemed a special kind of barbaric, a whole new type of awful, to put these two teenagers in the attire they would’ve worn for the wedding they would’ve been forced into had it not been for this Quarter Quell that threatened to cut their lives short for a second time. It felt like adding insult to an injury, parading them about in these clothes. She was utterly surprised that their stylists, Cinna and Portia, would put them in this. They had always been inventive with District Twelve’s outfits, to be sure, but it always seemed to be something that made them look beautiful and powerful and radiant. While they did look beautiful, this seemed to be more a method of public humiliation than anything else.

“I can’t believe Cinna put you in that thing,” Finnick said finally, saying what Athena was thinking.

“He didn’t have any choice,” Katniss said at once, hastening to defend her stylist. “President Snow made him.”

And at once, it all made sense. This seemed exactly the sort of thing Snow would do. Katniss and Peeta were probably the biggest offenders in his eyes, having sparked a lot of the tensions and uprisings in Panem, and most likely the reason this theme for the Quarter Quell had been chosen. Of course he would add this element of humiliation to it, turning their wedding attire into their shrouds.

“Well, you look ridiculous!” Cashmere spat out, tossing her flowing blonde curls over her shoulder, grabbed her brother’s hand, and pulled him into place to lead our procession onto the stage.

Athena wasn’t too sure about ridiculous, though, as furious as she was at Snow and as sympathetic as she felt towards Katniss and Peeta. Besides, in those outfits, Athena saw a golden opportunity. The Capitol was bound to be overwhelmed with emotion at what essentially represented what could have been between the two star-crossed lovers of District Twelve. It would be so easy to twist it all around, use that emotion to make Snow and the government look bad. It might be the closest a lot of these Capitol citizens would ever come to viewing Snow as the monster that he was.

It seemed Johanna was thinking the same thing, because she stopped to straighten Katniss’ pearl necklace, and with a wicked smile, said, “Make him pay for it, okay?”

Katniss nodded. At that moment, it was time for them to file onto the stage, so they all hurried into their places and walked forward.

“Probably shouldn’t complain about anything Tatiana and Syrio put us in anymore, should we?” Athena muttered, quiet enough so that only Finnick could hear.

“I was thinking exactly the same thing.”

They all sat down in the arc that they would be seated in throughout the interviews. Despite the fact that evening was falling, the City Circle was as bright as day. There was the elevated seating unit for the most prestigious guests, with the stylists commanding the front row as always. A large balcony to the right was reserved for the Gamemakers while television crews took up the rest of the balconies, as per usual. The City Circle and the avenues surrounding it were packed with people, providing standing room only. Every television set was turned on at homes and community halls all over Panem. Everyone in the country was watching.

Caesar Flickerman, his hair and face highlighted in a soft baby blue this time, did his usual opening spiel to get the crowd warmed up, but he didn’t waste much time before getting right to the interviews. It wasn’t long until Athena realized that Mags had had the right idea about the rage of the other victors and their determination to get the Games cancelled by playing with the emotions of the Capitol audience. There were some exceptions; Brutus and Enobaria, who went on about how they were excited for another Games, and those too baffled and drugged up and lost to join in on the subtle attack on Snow and the government. But enough of them had their wits about them and enough nerve to come out fighting.

Cashmere got the ball rolling with a speech about how she simply could not stop crying when she thought about how much the Capitol must be suffering because they will lose them. Gloss followed through by recalling the kindness the Capitol showed to him and his sister, saying that for all intents and purposes, the Capitol _was_ their family and he could think of no one that could love them better. Beetee questioned the legality of the Quell in his nervous, twitchy way, wondering if it had been thoroughly examined by experts as of late.

“The Quarter Quell was written into law by men,” he explained, “certainly it can be... unwritten.”

“I - yes,” Caesar said slowly, uncertainly. He recovered quickly, hitching the usual bright smile on his face. “Interesting concept.”

When Beetee’s interview was done and he took his seat to Athena's left, Caesar announced Athena's interview to thunderous applause, loud cheering and whistling, and chants of her name. Finnick wished her good luck from beside her. The cool, haughty smirk Athena had been wearing transformed smoothly into a bright, winning smile as she stood and stepped up for her interview, falling into her long-since perfected sexy walk. It was several long moments until the noise from the audience died down. Athena waved and blew kisses at the crowds until Caesar reminded them jovially that they only had so much time for this interview and they fell relatively silent.

“Athena Maris!” Caesar said again. “My, my, my! Look at you! A goddess of the sea indeed, you look stunning!”

“Thank you,” Athena said with a modest smile. “I have such amazing stylists - look at this dress!”

“And look at you in it!” Caesar replied. “Oh, please, I beg of you - give us a twirl?”

Athena obliged him at once, beginning to twirl on the spot. The reaction was immediate, the audience letting out delighted cries and cheering for her to keep going. She spun around and around and around, making herself giggle as she did, until she was so dizzy she was at risk of falling over, clutching onto Caesar for support.

“Oh, keep going, keep going!” said Caesar cried.

“I can’t, I'm too dizzy!” Athena said with a giggle. “I want to stay on my feet for a little longer.”

“I've got you, my dear girl, I've got you,” Caesar said, holding onto her. “We want you here just as badly, don't we?”

He addressed the audience at that last part, who immediately burst into enthusiastic cheers and applause. She waved to them, bringing a hand to her chest, as though the praise warmed her heart.

“But, truly, you look absolutely gorgeous,” Caesar continued. “Let's all give your stylist, Tatiana, a warm round of applause for her brilliant work!”

She knew the cameras would be trained on Tatiana at that moment, but Athena still joined in on the thunderous applause for Tatiana, who took a quick bow, beaming.

“Now, let's get right to it,” said Caesar, turning a little serious. “Let's go back a few months, to the night you found out about the Quell. How were you feeling on that night?”

Athena put on a heartbroken, puppy-dog-esque expression as she answered. “I was shocked and heartbroken. I could've never seen something like this coming. And I just kept thinking... you know, my fellow victors, they had to fight and struggle through so much to get where they were, and it just... it broke my heart to think that they had to do it again.”

“Is that why you volunteered?” Caesar asked. “Because we all saw that courageous moment with you volunteering for poor Annie Cresta.”

“Oh, yes,” Athena said at once. “The Hunger Games... it changes people. You're never the same walking out as you were walking in. That's not always something you can handle more than once. But I knew I could handle it. And as long as I'm able, I'm never gonna let _anything_ hurt the people I care about.”

There were some coos and sighs from the audience at that. Caesar said, “Oh, so sweet, so sweet... and what of your mother and sister?”

“That’s been one of the hardest parts,” Athena said. “They've been staying strong as always, but they've been through so much pain already... they lost me once already, but then I came back... they lost my father... and now, this Quarter Quell... it's making them lose me again.”

The City Circle was mainly silent. The only sounds came from sobs from countless members of the audience, and she saw from looking out at the crowd that many people were getting emotional, breaking out handkerchiefs as tears streamed down their faces. Everyone was giving her their undivided attention. Caesar himself seemed to be hanging onto her every word.

“Such a tragic thing,” Caesar said. “I think it's safe to say that you and I, as well all of Panem are hoping for the best for them as well as you.”

“Oh, one hundred percent,” said Athena. “They’ll be in my thoughts every step of the way.”

“Of course. Now, if I may, I’d like to bring up who else will be with you. During your first Games, your district partner was Kai Emerson,” Caesar was saying, and her chest constricted painfully at the mention of Kai, but Athena made herself smile through it, “who was essentially a stranger to you. This time around, you have none other than the handsome Finnick Odair as your male counterpart, someone you’ve known for years. How does that difference feel? How does it feel to have the man who was your co-mentor for years be the one going into the arena with you?”

“It... it does break my heart, the fact that he has to go through it again,” Athena replied, “but if I had to pick anyone to watch my back in that arena, it’d be him for sure. He helped protect me the first time I was in the arena as my mentor, and we’ve been not only friends, but... but a team for years now. There’s no one I trust more to be by my side in that arena. And with a mentor as amazing as Mags guiding us... that’s one thing I can feel good about.”

“And we’ll all be rooting for both of you,” said Caesar. “You two make a formidable team to be sure. I’ve always loved watching you both together, and I’m sure we can all agree?”

He turned to the audience at that, and there was another tidal wave of noise, loud cheers and applause from the crowds. Athena blew them more kisses, and they somehow managed to cheer even louder.

“Now, Athena,” Caesar said seriously once the noise died down, reaching out to take her hands in his, “I’m sure you’ve realized that this is a very emotional night for _all_ of us, and now that we’re seeing you here tonight... you’ve been with us for so very long. We’ve watched you grow into this wonderful woman that we all see today. You're a part of us, in a way.”

Athena raised her eyebrows, making herself smile playfully as she said, “Are you gonna go crying on me now, Caesar?”

“Oh, I can't help it, I can't promise you I won't!”

“Well, you know I wouldn't believe you even if you did. I'm here for you if you do, though.”

There was a round of loud laughter at that, Caesar joining in enthusiastically, saying, “Athena Maris, always so cheeky!” When the laughter died down, Caesar became more serious again. “But truly... you’re so very loved here, and you have been for so long... and seeing you tonight, as beautiful as you are, and getting to talk to you, it just makes me think... I don't know how we're going to let you go.”

“I’m not going by choice,” Athena said earnestly, before turning to address the crowds. “You've all shown me so much love and kindness over the years, and I'll always remember that. If it were up to _me_... I'd never leave.”

Her last words left a heavy implication of who was the one taking Athena away from the Capitol who adored her so very much. The audience looked emotional all over again at her words.

“We wish you could stay with us forever too, my dear girl, believe me. Now, I have to ask, is there anyone else you wish you didn’t have to leave behind? Of course, you have your mother and sister, and your fellow victors you care for, but is there someone else out there? A... _special_ somebody back home - or even among us tonight?” Caesar asked, with a coy smile on his face.

 _Wouldn't you like to know?_ she thought bitterly, but just smiled and said, “There is one special somebody - though, I don't think they’d be very pleased if I told you who they are.”

An interested murmur rippled through the crowd at this news, and she knew why. Save for the odd rumor that quickly died out about her and some other victor or her and someone in the Capitol, there had never been much talk about her being romantically involved with anyone else since she had entered the games six years ago.

“Oh, come on, not even a hint?” Caesar said.

“Sorry,” Athena shrugged, still smiling, not really feeling very sorry at all. “I don't kiss and tell.”

She had said the right thing. The crowd seemed to like the mystery that accompanied that response. The talk got louder, and there were a few whistles here and there. There were a significant amount of faces that seemed almost hopeful, and she saw that keeping her lover’s identity a secret was a good idea for more reasons than one; it would be good for sponsorships if some of these Capitol citizens thought she was talking about them.

“Oh, you’re killing us,” said Caesar, as though in actual pain. He gestured around at the enthralled crowd. “It's obvious that everybody's dying to know!”

“And you know how much I hate to disappoint,” Athena insisted. “But I'm afraid my lips are sealed.”

“Oh, well, if you can't tell us who they are, at least tell us how you feel about them,” Caesar said. “What're they like?”

The crowd cheered at the suggestion, and Athena knew she couldn't refuse this time. Smiling sheepishly, she waited until the crowd died down before answering.

“Oh, you should see them Caesar. They’re... they’re everything. Everything I need, everything I’ve ever needed, everything I’ll ever need. They’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen in my life. I’ve drawn them so many times I think I could do it with my eyes closed now. The thing that breaks me the most about this Quell, about how I’m going back into that arena, is the fact that I might not ever see them again. That they might watch me die. All I want... all I want is to be able to go back to them. For them to know how much they mean to me.”

Athena had meant to just say all the stuff she knew would drive the Capitol crazy, so she didn't exactly know when that turned into something genuine. She was aware, though, of every member of the audience, Caesar himself, and probably some of the tributes watching her avidly.

Deciding to use this to send a message to Snow, she looked right at one of the cameras, and said in the sweetest voice she could muster, “And I want _nobody_ to ever try to split us up ever again.”

“Such a romantic, isn’t she? Isn’t she?” Caesar turned to the crowds, who all began cheering and whistling, many of them positively overcome with emotion. “Now, Athena, I’m afraid our time is almost up. Before you go, are there any last words you’d like to say? Either in general, or to your family back home, or perhaps to this mystery lover?”

“Yes,” Athena said. “Yes, I’d like to say that... that I’m not going down easy. I’m going to fight with everything I have. And if I die in there... remember that I did what’s right, all the way through. And that I’ll never forget who and what are important. Ever.”

“Athena, I and all of Panem believe in you,” Caesar said, taking her hand again and squeezing it. At that moment, the buzzer went off, indicating that it was the end of her three minutes. “Sorry! Out of time! But we’re all with you, Athena Maris, tribute of District Four!”

Thunderous applause followed her all the way back to her seat. Her interview left much of the audience in an emotional state, many of them full-on weeping and clutching onto the person beside them. Athena found Mags in the crowd, who smiled and nodded at her approvingly.

“Nicely done,” Finnick muttered to her when she sat down.

“Thanks,” she whispered back. “Good luck.”

And a few moments later, once the applause finally died down, Caesar was introducing Finnick, who stood up and strode to join Caesar for his interview. Once again, the crowd had gone wild once Finnick stepped up, and it took Caesar nearly twenty seconds to quiet the wall of noise coming from the crowds at the sight of Finnick.

Finnick had always been so good at these interviews. He seemed to be a natural at it, especially with a host like Caesar Flickerman, with their easy give-and-take, comic timing, and ability to segue seamlessly into heart-wrenching moments, making for a perfect interview. For a few seconds, Finnick and Caesar slipped into the usual easy, humourous banter, before they got right to it.

“Now, Finnick,” Caesar was saying, “you’re always a nice sight to see, but these circumstances are something else, aren’t they? What do you make of all this?”

“I definitely didn’t see it coming - who could’ve?” said Finnick. “These Gamemakers definitely know how to keep us on our toes. I fought like hell to get through the dangers of the arena ten years ago so I could be in a good, safe place. Now I’m being put in that same dangerous position again.”

“It is very tragic,” Caesar agreed. “Would you say everything is the same, or are there some differences?”

“The stakes are definitely higher, with this being a Quarter Quell and all the tributes being victors,” said Finnick. “And during my first Games, I was alone the whole way through. This year, I know I have Athena by my side. We’ve been... friends, best friends for years, but not only that, we’ve been a team, and a good one. That’s not changing.”

“She is an ally you want to keep close, isn’t she?” Caesar said. “Would you say you’re in a good place, then?”

“Maybe in some ways, when it comes to actually getting through the arena,” Finnick replied. “But like I said, it’s the same dangerous place I had to fight through all those years ago, and who knows what’ll happen this time - to me or Athena. It’s not easy, especially since I’ve built this life for myself, and now I have to leave it behind again - maybe forever.”

Athena’s eyes swept the audience. Many of them looked close to tears all over again. Finnick was playing the crowd just right, tugging on their heartstrings perfectly.

“I understand exactly what you mean, Finnick,” said Caesar, as though he’d ever been put in a position like this or ever would be. “I am curious... in this life that you’ve built for yourself, is there any person in particular that you’re sad to leave behind?”

“Many,” Finnick replied, “but one person in particular did come to mind right away. And I... I actually,” he put on a rather bashful expression, “I’ve been so worried lately that we didn’t leave things off the right way, so I was wondering if could send them a message? A message for my one true love in - in the Capitol. If you don’t mind - ?”

“Of course, my boy,” Caesar said at once, straightening up, “of course! Far be it for me to get in the way of love!”

Athena looked on closely from where she sat, remembering to keep perfect posture and the haughty, cool smirk. The audience was already going wild over Finnick and the idea of him sending some romantic message. Athena kept her eyes trained on Finnick. Just as she had been expecting, he recited a poem, the same poem he had recited in Mags’ house all those months ago, the poem that spoke of the love of his life and all the things he loved about them - about her. He had told Caesar and the crowd that it was for his love in the Capitol, but it was about her. He had told her, recited the whole thing while kissing her all over. It was a little odd, in a way, hearing him recite this poem to all of Panem now that she knew it was about her. She felt her face heat up and her chest felt warm, though she kept the cool, collected expression on her face.

As always, he finished off the message by saying, “My love, you have my heart for all eternity. If I die in that arena, my last thought will be of your lips. And if I die knowing that I’m loved by you as I love you, then I know I have lived a life worth living.”

About a hundred people are close to fainting from his message. Much of the audience was swooning, doubtlessly positive that he was talking about them. It angered her, though not from envy, because she was fairly certain she wasn’t jealous of any of these Capitol people. It was more that any of them could think that they had his love after all the horrible things they had put him through, that any of them could think they could ever deserve him or his love at all.

She rolled her eyes quickly, unable to help herself, before hitching back the haughty, casual expression quickly. She thought nobody had noticed her, until she heard laughter to her right. She looked over to see Johanna staring directly at her, laughing quite openly. She had no idea how Johanna could possibly understand everything that was running through Athena’s head, but somehow she did. As discreetly as she could, she sent a rude hand gesture Johanna’s way. Johanna laughed even harder at that, before turning to face forward again.

“My, my!” Caesar said, once the noise from the crowds finally died down again. “You’ve always been quite the romantic, haven’t you?”

“I fight when the time calls for it, but I’ve always been more of a lover,” Finnick replied easily.

"Well, I must say, this one true love of yours sounds like someone truly special.”

“Oh, you don’t know the half of it, Caesar. I still can’t believe I got lucky enough to have someone like that in my life.”

The rest of Finnick’s interview passed by without a hitch. He had effectively turned the audience into an emotional wreck with his romantic message, and he was brilliant at continuing to pull on Capitol heartstrings just right. When the buzzer went off, signifying the end of his interview, the cheers from the audience were almost deafening.

“Well done,” Athena muttered to him when he sat back down.

“Thanks,” he said. “I’d say we did nicely for ourselves.”

Athena nodded in agreement.

The rest of the interviews passed by well enough. When Johanna got up for her interview, she asked if anything could still be done about this Quell. Surely, the creators of the Quarter Quell simply never anticipated the strong love forming between the victors and the Capitol. No one could be so cruel as to sever such a deep bond.

“Now that it appears that this bond between us is being severed,” Caesar asked, “how does it make you feel?”

“Well, to be honest, Caesar, I feel angry.”

“And why is that?”

“Because we’re getting totally screwed over here,” Johanna replied matter-of-factly. “The deal was is that if I win the Hunger Games, I get to live the rest of my life in peace. But now... they want to kill me again and ruin this... beautiful relationship I’ve forged with the Capitol. Well you know what? FUCK THAT! AND FUCK EVERYBODY THAT HAD ANYTHING TO DO WITH IT!”

 _You’ve gotta love Johanna,_ Athena thought, unable to help but grin at her words.

Johanna’s interview was a tough act to follow, but some do a decent job. Seeder quietly ruminated about how, back in District Eleven, everyone assumed that Snow is all-powerful, and if he was all-powerful, why wouldn’t he change the Quell? Chaff, who came right at Seeder’s heels, insisted that Snow could change the Quarter Quell if he wanted to, but he probably didn’t think it mattered to anyone.

By the time Katniss was introduced, the audience was an absolute wreck. So many of the victors had played their cards so right that people in the crowds have been weeping and collapsing and even calling for a change. The sight of her in her white silk bridal gown practically caused a riot, as though they were realizing once and for all that this Quarter Quell meant no more Katniss Everdeen, no more of the star-crossed lovers living happily ever after, no more wedding. There were even cracks in Caesar’s professionalism as he tried to quiet the crowd so Katniss could speak, her three minutes ticking away.

Finally, there was a lull, and he managed out, “So, Katniss, obviously this is a very emotional night for everyone. Is there anything you’d like to say?”

Her voice trembled as she spoke. “Only that I’m so sorry that you won’t get to be at my wedding... but I’m glad you at least get to see me in my dress. Isn’t it just... the most beautiful thing?”

And at that moment, she began to twirl slowly, raising the sleeves of her heavy-looking gown over her head. The crowd began screaming, and it was evident why. Smoke was rising up around her, as fire - not the flickery, fake stuff that District Twelve’s stylist had been using before, but something more real - began to devour her dress. The smoke thickened and the flames engulfed her almost completely, but Katniss kept twirling around and around. She wasn’t screaming, nor did she seem in pain, so Athena had to assume the flames weren’t touching her flesh. All at once, the fire disappeared. Katniss came to a slow stop.

The white gown was gone, and in its stead was a dress of the exact same design, only it was the colour of coal and made up of tiny feathers. There were only small patches of white on her sleeves. Slowly, Katniss raised her long, flowing sleeves into the air, and it was then that Athena realized with a jolt what Katniss was supposed to be. The sleeves weren’t just sleeves, they were wings.

Before their very eyes, Katniss Everdeen had just turned into a mockingjay.

She was still smoldering a little, so it was with a tentative hand that Caesar reached out to touch her headpiece. The white had burned away, leaving a smooth, fitted veil of black that draped into the neckline of the dress in the back. There was something beautiful about this new dress, and powerful too. Much more like the usual stuff Katniss had been getting from her stylists.

“Feathers,” said Caesar. “You’re like a bird.”

“A mockingjay, I think,” said Katniss, giving her wings a small flap. “It’s the bird on the pin I wear as a token.”

There was a shadow of recognition that flickered across Caesar’s face, and Athena could tell at once that he knew that the mockingjay wasn’t just Katniss’ token anymore. That just like Katniss herself, it had come to symbolize so much more, and that what would inevitably be seen as simply a flashy costume change in the Capitol would come to mean something very, very different in the districts. As Caesar Flickerman always did, though, he made the best of it.

“Well, hats off to your stylist. I don’t think anyone can argue that that’s not the most spectacular thing we’ve ever seen in an interview. Cinna, I think you better take a bow!”

Caesar gestured for Cinna to rise. He did, making a small, gracious bow. And though Athena didn’t know the man at all, she was suddenly quite worried for him. This was something dangerous. An act of rebellion. There was no way the significance of Katniss’ fiery transformation would be lost on President Snow. And he was responsible.

“Not very subtle, is he?” Finnick whispered to her, looking thoughtful.

“No,” Athena said quietly, staring at Cinna, “he’s not. I just hope he knows what he’s doing.”

The audience, who before had been stunned into silence, broke into wild applause, so loud that she could barely hear the buzzer that indicated the end of Katniss’ interview. Katniss turned and returned to her seat. Her dress seemed much lighter now.

Next was Peeta. Peeta also seemed to be a natural when it came to interviews. He and Caesar effortlessly opened with a few jokes about fires and feathers and overcooking poultry. It was obvious, though, that Peeta was preoccupied, so Caesar jumped right into the topic on everyone’s minds.

“So, Peeta, what was it like when, after all you’ve been through, you found out about the Quell?”

“I was in shock. I mean, one minute I was looking at Katniss looking so beautiful in all these wedding dresses, and the next...” he trailed off.

“You realized there was never going to be a wedding?” Caesar asked gently.

Peeta paused for a long time, as though deciding something. He looked out at the spellbound audience, then at the floor, before his gaze settled on Caesar again. “Caesar, do you think all our friends here can keep a secret?”

There was an uncomfortable laugh from the audience at that. They were probably wondering what he meant by that, considering the entire country was watching.

“I feel quite certain of it.”

“We’re already married,” said Peeta.

The crowd reacted with astonishment. Athena felt confused; there was no way they had actually gotten married, Peeta must have been saying this to play with the Capitol’s emotions, but where exactly was he going with it?

“But... how can that be?” asked Caesar.

“Oh, it’s not an official marriage. We didn’t go to the Justice Building or anything. But we have this marriage ritual in District Twelve. But there’s this thing we do,” said Peeta, and quickly described something he called the toasting, where a traditional song was sung as the new couple crossed the threshold of their home, made their first fire, toasted a bit of bread, and shared it.

“Were your families there?”

“No, we didn’t tell anyone. Not even Haymitch. And Katniss’ mother would’ve never approved. But you see, we knew if we were married in the Capitol, there wouldn’t be a toasting. And neither of us really wanted to wait any longer. So one day, we just did it. And to us, we’re more married than any piece of paper or big party could make us.”

“So this was before the Quell?” Caesar asked.

“Of course before the Quell. I’m sure we’d never have done it after we knew,” Peeta said, starting to get upset. “But who could’ve seen it coming? No one. We went through the Games, we were victors, everyone seemed so thrilled to see us together, and then out of nowhere - I mean, how could we anticipate a thing like that?”

“You couldn’t, Peeta,” Caesar put an arm around his shoulders. “As you said, no one could’ve. But I have to confess, I’m glad you two had a few months of happiness together.”

There was enormous applause. Katniss looked up from her feathers to let the audience see her tragic smile of thanks. She was teary-eyed, which was a nice touch, except Athena wasn’t sure if it was from emotion or from the residual smoke from the feathers.

“I’m not glad,” said Peeta. “I wish we had waited until the whole thing was done officially.”

This response took even Caesar aback. “But, Peeta, surely even a brief time is better than no time?”

“Maybe I’d think that, too, Caesar,” Peeta said bitterly, “if it weren’t for the baby.”

And just like that, he had done it. Lit the fuse on a bomb the other victors had all been building, it seemed, for this moment, hoping he would detonate it. And he had done it.

“Clever boy,” Athena murmured, a little blown away herself. “That is clever.”

“Forget clever, it’s genius,” Finnick said. “Throwing us in the arena, that’s one thing, but throwing in the Girl on Fire when she’s pregnant? I won’t be surprised if there’s a riot.”

As the bomb Peeta had detonated exploded, it sent accusations of injustice and barbarism and cruelty flying out in every direction, because Finnick was right, bringing a baby into the arena, whether it was unborn or not, was a level of injustice that absolutely nobody could deny, it seemed. Even the most Capitol-loving, Games-hungry, bloodthirsty person couldn’t ignore, at least for a moment, how horrific the whole thing was.

The audience couldn’t absorb the news right away. It had to strike them and sink in and be confirmed by other voices before they began to sound like a herd of wounded animals, moaning, shrieking, calling for help. And though she knew that it was a lie, that the pregnancy was fake, she couldn’t help but feel that same shock and grief and rage that they did, because wasn’t this it? Wasn’t this the thing that always made fear seize her heart at the mere thought of starting a family? That she could never protect them from the Capitol, from the Games, the same way she couldn’t seem to protect anyone she cared about?

Caesar couldn’t rein in the crowd, not even when the buzzer sounded. Peeta nodded his goodbye and returned to his seat without anymore conversation. Athena could see Caesar’s lips moving, but the place is in such total chaos that she couldn’t hear a word. Only the blast of the anthem, cranked up so loud Athena could feel it vibrating through her bones, showed them where they stood in the program. Athena rose to her feet. She looked out at the crowd, but she didn’t see Capitol citizens anymore. She saw her mother and father. She saw Hudson, her only son lost to the Games. She saw the faces of every grieving parent she looked into during her victory tour all those years ago.

She looked around and saw that victors were joining hands. First Katniss and Peeta, then the former’s fingers closed around the stump that completed Chaff’s arm, who took Seeder’s hand next. This started a chain reaction, victors joining hands up and down the row. Athena and Finnick exchanged glances. She acted at once, lacing their fingers together, before taking Beetee’s hand next. Some victors joined in right away, like the morphlings and Beetee and Wiress. Others were unsure but caught up in the demands of those around them, like Brutus and Enobaria. By the time the anthem played its final strains, all twenty-four of them stood in one unbroken line in what must have been the first public show of unity among the districts since the Dark Days. The realization of this could be seen as the screens began to pop into blackness. It was far too late, though. In the confusion, they didn’t get cut off in time. Everyone had seen them.

There was disorder on the stage now, as the lights went out and they were left to stumble back into the Training Center blind. Athena lost hold of Beetee, but she and Finnick kept a tight grip on each other. Johanna joined them before long, and the three of them tried to join the elevator with Katniss and Peeta, but harried Peacekeepers blocked their way and forced them into another elevator alone.

For a moment, neither of them pressed any of the buttons. They just stood there in silence, reeling from what had just occurred.

“Well,” Johanna said finally, “that was something. Man, they don’t pull any punches in Twelve, do they?”

“No denying that it was brilliant, though,” said Athena fairly. Did you see the way they reacted? I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Good point,” Johanna said. “Tonight was the closest they’ve ever gotten to actually giving a shit.”

“Yeah, let’s see what it actually comes to,” Finnick said.

A short silence fell between them, until Johanna looked between Athena and Finnick and said with a wry smile, “By the way, great romantic spiels, you two. I wonder _where_ you got the inspiration for that.”

And something about that confirmed that Johanna knew about Athena and Finnick without even needing to be told. It suddenly seemed quite likely that she had known for years.

“Shut up, Mason,” said Athena.

“Nice anger out there,” said Finnick. “I wonder where you got inspiration for that.”

Johanna smiled. “From the heart, like always. _Obviously_.”

Both Athena and Finnick cracked a smile at that. Another silence.

“It’s not going to do anything.”

“What won’t do anything?”

“Any of what just happened out there,” Johanna elaborated. “The whole pregnancy bomb. The audience reacting the way it did. All of us holding hands. It won’t do anything, in the end. The Games are still gonna be on tomorrow, and we’ll all be killing each other as per usual. It’ll be like it never happened.”

In many ways, she was right, of course. The likelihood of the Games being cancelled had always been slim, but it seemed an impossibility now. Snow couldn’t back down now. Athena was sure he thought the only thing left for him to do was strike back and strike back hard. And once in the arena, everyone, especially everyone not involved in the mission, would revert back to the usual procedure of kill or be killed.

Athena doubted it would be like it never happened, though. Somewhere, in a far away place called District Four, her mother and sister and friends would probably have to deal with the fallout of this night, just like people in all the districts likely would, especially District Twelve. And just a brief hovercraft ride away was the arena where, tomorrow, the tributes would face their own form of punishment. But regardless, even if they all met horrible ends, there was no denying that something happened on that stage that could not be undone. The victors staged their own uprising that night, and maybe, just maybe, the Capitol wouldn't be able to contain that one.

“Maybe,” Finnick said. “Probably. Let's just see what _we_ can do.”

It was clear that he was talking about the mission. The implication of it hung heavy in the air for several long, suspended moments.

“Come on,” Johanna said finally, punching in the numbers four and seven, “back to reality we go.”

 

*

 

The scene in the streets of the Capitol was one of complete and utter chaos. There were hundreds of people, all stumbling around as though blind. Any cars that were out were being driven at a snail’s pace to avoid collisions. People were shouting things, loud enough to be heard from the fifth floor of the Training Center, but their words all melded together to become indistinguishable noise, mingled in with all the regular sounds of the city.

Athena was watching it from the balcony of the District Four suite, staring at the the city that twinkled like the stars they couldn't see under the darkness of the night. Athena stood with her arms crossed, while Finnick stood just behind her, still tall enough despite her heels to be able to see over her head, looking out at the scene. Athena was leaning against him, tilting her head against his chest. They were both still dressed in their outfits from the interviews. The suite behind them was plunged in darkness, with only the lights of the moon and the city to illuminate them, but neither of them bothered to turn the lights on, lost in thought, waiting for Mags, Alayne, their stylists, and their prep teams to return.

For a long, long time neither of them said anything, suspended in silence, until Athena finally broke it.

“Peeta’s plan was smart - it was genius, really - but it's not gonna work,” she said dully. “There's no way they're gonna cancel the Games.”

They had already acknowledged it in the elevator with Johanna, but Athena felt the need to say it again. Maybe to rid the delusions from her mind once and for all. They were going back in the arena tomorrow no matter what. Finnick didn't reply at first, quiet for so long that for a split second she wondered if he had heard her.

“I know,” he said at last. “If all we needed to do to make this all end was hold hands this would’ve stopped being a problem decades ago.”

At that moment, the elevator doors opened and she could hear Mags’ cane against the floors. Athena and Finnick whipped around, expecting to see the others, but Mags was walking in alone.

“It's madness out there,” Mags said, as Athena and Finnick hastened to reach her. “Everyone's been sent home and they canceled the recap of the interviews on television.”

Athena thought about the chaos on the streets below. “What are they saying? Are they asking the president to cancel the Games?”

“I don't think they even _know_ what to ask,” said Mags. “This is all completely unprecedented. Even the idea of opposing the Capitol agenda is a source for confusion here. But they won't cancel the Games. They're gonna want to take back control after tonight, and the Games is gonna be how they do it.”

Athena and Finnick exchanged looks. Mags was only confirming what they already knew. It was probably good to keep hearing it and saying it over and over again. It got rid of any impossible hopes. There was no room for those now.

“We figured,” Finnick said finally. “The others went home?”

“They were ordered to. I don't know how much luck they're having getting through the mob, though.”

Then we'll never see Alayne again,” Athena said suddenly, remembering that tributes usually never saw their escort the morning of the Games. She didn't expect this to bother her as much as it did.

Finnick turned to Mags. “You'll give her our thanks.”

“More than that,” Athena added, surprising herself a little. “It's Alayne, after all. Make it really big and special for her. Tell her how appreciative we are of everything she's done over the years and that she's the best escort anyone could ever have and that... tell her we send our love, too.”

Mags seemed surprised at Athena's words (it wasn't exactly a secret that Athena and Alayne had never been overly fond of each other), but nodded once. “I'll make sure she knows. You should both go to bed. Don't worry, this isn't goodbye yet,” she added, at the looks on their faces. “Remember, I've arranged to see you both off at the Launch Room. I'll give any last advice and say goodbye then. For now, you both need rest.”

Athena and Finnick began to walk away, but Athena paused at the last minute. There was still something she needed to know before she had any hope of sleeping that night.

“Mags,” she said slowly, “you haven't heard anything from - from Snow or - or anyone, have you?”

Mags smiled and shook her head. “Nothing. Really,” she added, at the uncertain looks on their faces.

Athena felt relief wash over her. If Snow wasn't saying anything to her, that was a good sign. It was if Snow sent another message or invitation that she would be in trouble.

“Now sleep,” Mags added.

Athena and Finnick stopped again in the middle of the hallway, in the space between his chambers and hers. It was only them and Mags in the suite tonight, no one they needed to hide from - at least, not until their stylists came at dawn to take them to the Launch Room. And besides, Athena was a little worried of being away from him. It might be paranoia, but Athena had the strongest feeling that if they went to their separate chambers, even if it was just for a few minutes, the doors would lock, and Athena did not want to spend the night without him.

She turned to Finnick to point this out, but she saw he already seemed to understand.

“Come on,” he said, opening the door to his chambers. “You can shower first, wash off all that makeup.”

While she was in the shower, Athena thought about her mother and sister and friends back in District Four. She wondered if the interviews, particularly the end of them, brought them hope or dread because they knew the punishment that would doubtlessly follow. She wondered if the actions of the tributes that night was inspiring people to action. She didn't know if she wanted it to do so.

She would drive herself insane wondering and speculating, though, so she tried to shake it off and finished the rest of her nightly routine. Finnick stepped into the bathroom after her, and she wandered over to the closet to find a change of clothes. Unsurprisingly, it was all clothes for Finnick. She could’ve programmed the wardrobe to find something to her tastes, but she couldn’t be bothered, so she found the biggest sweater she could find and threw it on.

She drifted over to the bed. On the dresser was an elegantly carved ring encrusted with emeralds and rubies. It was a beautiful thing, and looked rather expensive. She’d never seen it before, and she’d never noticed it until now. Sitting down at the foot of the bed, she turned the ring over in her fingers, looking at it closely. Finnick came out of the shower, but she didn’t say anything until he had emerged from the closet, fully clothed again.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, evidently noticing that she was preoccupied.

“What is this?” she asked him, holding the ring up higher.

He tensed slightly, then said, “A gift one of my patrons got me a long time ago. I think I was sixteen or seventeen. Before I started asking for secrets, I’d take whatever money or jewels they’d give me. I forgot about that ring for a while. I dug it up again the night we got here.”

“Dug it up?” Athena repeated, confused. “Why’d you dig it up?”

Finnick didn’t answer. She got concerned.

“Finnick?”

Still, he said nothing.

“Finnick, what is it?” Athena said, now seriously worried. “You know you can tell me anything, right? You can trust me.”

Finnick hesitated for a split second longer. Finally, he said, sighing, “Remember when I disappeared to talk to Haymitch and Plutarch? Well... I didn’t come straight back after. I made a slight detour.”

“Where?” Athena asked, frowning.

“I - I tried to get them to let us have a call back to Four. You know, that way the two of us and Mags could say our goodbyes after all. I begged them, but they wouldn’t bite. After that I decided to just ask to let you talk to your mother and Calypso. If nothing else, if you got that, I’d be okay. You should’ve gotten an hour - you should’ve gotten forever - but... if you got those five minutes, at least it’d be something. I tried everything I could think of to get them to say yes... everything,” he said, and from the look on his face, Athena had a good idea of what he was thinking of, her heart sinking. He’d already done it for her once before, during her first Games, the thought of him even offering to do it again... “including that - ” he pointed at the ring - “I thought I could use it to bribe them, but nothing I did worked. I... I would’ve told you, but I figured... what’s the point? I couldn’t do it for you.”

For a long moment, there was silence. Athena looked from him to the ring then back again.

“You did that for me?” she finally managed to get out.

“Tried to, anyways,” Finnick shrugged.

For a long time, Athena simply stared up at him; then, she placed the ring back on the dresser, stood up, walked until she was right in front of Finnick, took his face in her hands, and kissed him. She kissed him gently at first, lightly, until he kissed her back, deepening the kiss. Her fingers wound in his hair while his arms went around her waist, pulling her body closer into his. They got lost in each other, in the moment, until his hands started tugging on her sweater and she pulled away abruptly.

“Finnick, we shouldn't,” Athena said quietly, knowing what he was aiming to do. “We should go slow - “

“Why? What are you afraid of?” Finnick asked, and Athena didn’t say anything, though the main reason why was running through her mind. He studied her closely for a moment, before saying, “I’m not made of glass, Athena. And I’m not scared of you seeing me. Or touching me.”

Athena lowered her gaze momentarily at that. Admittedly, he had hit the nail on the head about why she was so hesitant about this. It felt wrong, felt like taking advantage of him, almost, after all he’d been through, after being forced to be a sexual slave to the Capitol. She couldn’t have blamed him if he never wanted to do it, couldn’t shake the fear that if they ever did, he’d feel like he had to perform for her the way he had to perform for the rich Capitol socialites that bought him. Finnick Odair had been forced to do too many terrible things in his life, she did not want to be the one who continued that.

“I’ve thought about it before,” he was saying, “if that changes anything. Besides, it’s not like we haven’t seen each other naked before.”

“That doesn’t count, that’s different,” she said at once, because it was.

“Maybe,” he conceded, “but it doesn’t change what I’m saying. I _want_ to do this, Athena. I want to do this with you. And I don’t want... they’ve gotten to dictate too much of what I do. They’ve controlled too much of what I do, tried to twist and pervert the things I think and the things I am and the things I want. They don’t get... I don’t want to let them do that. Not anymore. I know what I want. And I want this,” he said again, more firmly. “I love you. And I want you. And no one is going to take that or - or ruin it. No one.”

She searched his face, looking for any sign of insincerity, of uncertainty. She couldn’t find it. She asked anyway.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive,” he said. “But do you? If you don’t, then we won’t. We’ll just sleep. We’ll do what makes you comfortable.”

And admittedly, she had to think about it. She would be lying if she said she hadn't thought about it, several times before she forced the thought from her mind. She'd be afraid of potential pregnancies, except she knew the Capitol had technology that prevented it that she sincerely doubted Finnick didn't have access to. And she _did_ want to, she was fairly certain, even despite the slight worry and fear, for both of them, that was bubbling up in her chest.

Finally, she blurted out, a little embarrassingly, “I've never done it before.”

But this was unnecessary of her to say because, of course, he already knew this.

He smiled at her, something about it reassuring. “That’s okay. Neither have I. Not really.”

And something about that decided things for her. Perhaps it reminded her that they were both broken in their own ways and had a good many things to be scared of, but they didn't have to let it control them. They didn't have to let it ruin them. Or perhaps it was that she didn't want to let the Capitol take away and ruin what she thought and what she was and what she wanted, either. Or perhaps it was that she loved Finnick so very much, that even though there was something decidedly dangerous in this, he made her feel so safe that her doubts seemed almost microscopic. Either way, looking at him then, she knew what she wanted to do.

And maintaining eye contact with him, she raised her arms high above her head. An invitation. Finnick recognized it at once, grabbed her sweater again, and lifted it over her head. He tossed it carelessly onto the floor. She still had on the flimsy, thin black lingerie set her prep team had made her wear. He looked at her, up and down, once, twice, three times as though drinking her in, memorizing her. She stared at her face. She probably should’ve felt self-conscious, especially under his heavy, watchful gaze. She didn’t, though. He had already seen her like this, after all, and Finnick never gave her any reason to feel self-conscious.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said finally. “You’re the most beautiful person I've ever seen.”

He kissed her again, pulling her close, and she kissed him back at once, wrapping her arms around his neck. Her hands drifted to his shirt, and she paused for a second, pulling away and giving him a questioning look. He nodded once, and she took it off him. Their clothes seemed to disappear fast after that, and soon Finnick was picking her up as though she weighed less than a feather and laying her down on the bed, kissing her all the while.

They fumbled slightly, on the way to the bed, and a few other times after that, a little awkward, but she didn't mind it. She could never suppress her laughter when it happened, giggling in spite of herself. She didn't know if you were supposed to laugh at times like these, but she couldn't help herself.

Finnick gave her a look and said, very seriously, “I can't believe you're laughing at me in bed. You know me and my ego can't take it.”

And he was joking, of course, because they both knew very well that he and his ego could take a lot. Athena wanted to find some clever retort for that, but then Finnick started kissing every bit of skin he could reach, paying particular attention between her legs, and Athena’s mind went blank, her eyes fluttering shut and her head tilting back into the pillow. Her fingers curled in his hair, tugging on it until he was looking up at her again with a satisfied grin, and Athena was pulling him to kiss him again.

At one point, Athena had flipped them over so that she was on top of him, kissing up his abdomen until she reached the hollow of his throat. She felt him shudder underneath her and grab onto her hips tightly. She stopped at once, concerned.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No,” he said at once. “No, that... that felt nice. It felt good. I like it."

She felt herself smile, unable to control it. “Do you want me to keep doing it?”

He nodded, so she brought her lips back to his skin, smiling at the way he held tighter to her and moaned out her name.

They had little time left. At dawn, their stylists would come to collect them to take them to the Launch Room. They didn't have much time, but they touched each other like they did, loving and gentle and slow. Athena stopped keeping track of time, minutes and seconds and hours blending together in her mind. It felt good. It felt right. Everyone called it losing your virginity, but Athena knew what loss felt like, and this wasn’t it. She felt too full, too whole, for it to feel like loss. This felt like warmth, like light, like safety. It felt like love, like desire, pulling each other closer, never letting go. He said her name so many times it started sounding different in her ears, the three syllables slipping out of his mouth over and over again. It sounded like a plea, like a prayer, like a song. It sounded like an I love you. Athena forgot about the Games, forgot about Snow, forgot about the Capitol, about the rebellion, about everything but Finnick (his name ended up pouring out of her mouth over and over, too, a song and a plea and a declaration of her own).

At one point they paused, suspended, gasping for breath. The way he was looking at her made it hard to remember they weren’t the only ones who existed. She didn’t mind forgetting for once. Only the moon and the lights of the city outside illuminated them in the otherwise dark room, but sea green eyes looked down at her as bright as ever. The look on his face was an unexpected combination of terrified and nervous and loving and fervent and carnal and - there really was no other for it - awe as he looked at her.

“Are you scared?” she managed to get out. She'd been paying close attention to the way he reacted when she moved in time with him, when she touched him, but she needed confirmation.

He thought about it. “A little."

“Do you want to stop?

He didn’t pause to think this time. “No. What about you? Are you scared?”

“A little,” she replied. And before he could ask the next question, she kissed him again.

He laughed into the kiss, but then she rolled her hips and left scratches along his back, and he let out a sharp gasp and grabbed a fistful of her hair. And before long they had both lost of track of time, lost track of everything but the other, forgot how to speak if it wasn't saying the other's name, and then they were coming undone, losing control. And for once, there was no need for restraint, no need for fear. There was nothing that could ruin it or take it away from them. They stayed wrapped around each other, pushing each other further and further, suspending in what they knew would be one of their last moments that was only their own.


	16. XV

**XV**

 

Finnick Odair was beginning to hate his own name. He heard it one too many times in that Capitol accent, clipped and high-pitched with odd vowels. It echoed in his head every time he heard his name, no matter who was saying it, and he found that the Capitol was even tainting his name for him. That changed when he heard Athena say his name. Somewhere along the way, he heard her voice in his head when he heard his name, and he wondered if it could get any more beautiful. He liked his name in her mouth, trusted her with it. Perhaps it was that when she said it, he didn’t feel like the Finnick Odair he had to be to survive, or the Finnick Odair that killed seven at fourteen, or the Finnick Odair that could barely drag himself out of bed some days. Or perhaps it was that he still felt like all of those things, but they did not feel as wretched as they usually did, he felt like he did not have to hate himself, he felt like he could be _more_. There were no sugary sweet, false pet names, no ridiculous nicknames, only Finnick. Just Finnick. Like Finnick was enough.

He felt like more, certainly, lying beside Athena, her warm, soft skin against his, his hair tickling his skin. The arena was a mere hours away, and he felt that knowledge creep up on him, bubbling up inside him. Before long, he knew, it would overwhelm him, but for now he could push it away from him by pulling himself closer to Athena. Still, the temporariness of it all was hard to ignore, and he ached to find some way to freeze the moment, stay in it for the rest of his life. This moment, only for he and Athena.

Finnick wasn't sure if he and Athena ever really slept that night. They spent the rest of the night holding each other, in some in-between state of dreaming and waking. They didn't speak, not wanting to disturb the other in case they managed to store up some precious minutes of rest. When Finnick was awake, he stared at Athena, just as he had gazed at her reactions to each touch and movement. She seemed to be slipping in and out of dreams and nightmares, at times looking troubled, at other times peaceful. Finnick didn’t have any dreams, nightmares or otherwise, that he could remember. He had enough experience with the worst parts of his unconscious mind to know that this was a good thing for him.

It might have been that Athena was the dream. It had occurred to him, once or twice, that every moment he had spent with Athena was a dream, that he might wake up and find he had imagined her, find himself in his bed about to mentor for the first time, or still in the arena, or perhaps find himself before he’d ever volunteered to be in the arena, cursing himself for ever thinking someone so lovely could ever be in his life. And she did look almost dream-like, especially just then, the moonlight from the window making her skin seem to glow.

He reached to take one of her hands, kissing along her fingers gently, before shifting so that he was on top of her and kissing every bit of her he could reach. Before long, she began writhing a little underneath him, letting out gasps and sighs and whispering his name in the way he loved so much. He felt desire coil inside him at the sounds, intense and heavy, but he tried to ignore it. They didn't have enough time to go again. Once, he had thought the one thing they'd always have was time. Now, he cursed himself for ever being so naive.

“Sweet dreams?” Athena finally asked serenely, one of her hands running through his hair.

“Don’t need dreams,” he said in response, kissing up her thighs, towards her stomach. “I have you.”

She gave him an endeared but rather confused look. He elaborated.

“Sometimes I think you might be a dream,” he murmured against her skin. “Sometimes I think you're someone my brain made up to keep me from losing all sanity. Because you're so _beautiful_ , all the damn time. You're so beautiful and you're so kind and so wonderful and so _good_. Too good for a world like this. Too good for me.”

He reached her neck, kissing along it gently. It made him think of the blue spinel pendant she often wore around her neck, conspicuous in its absence. Her prep team had doubtlessly taken it so that it could be reviewed and approved as her token. He doubted it wouldn’t get approved and knew it would be back on her neck before long, but he also knew that she didn’t like being away from the necklace. It kept her family with her wherever she went. The thought of it made it seem wrong of him to think of Athena as a dream, someone that existed in his mind only. There was so much more to her, so much more inside her, so much that anchored her to this world, cruel and horrible and undeserving of her as it was.

“But that's not right,” he said, looking up at her. “You're much more than a dream.”

“I feel pretty real,” she hummed in agreement, before taking his face in her hands, kissing him languidly, and saying, “And there’s nothing or no one that's too good for you. At all.”

And there it was again, that feeling of being more. He smiled a little, leaning forward and kissing her until they were both out of breath, collapsing back onto the bed beside her. They stayed close together, though, and Finnick was glad for it. Everything would be different once their stylists came to get them, once they went into the arena. They’d have to keep their distance at all times, and they’d be too focused on survival to think much on any of that, anyway. This was it. The last moments of peace they might ever have together.

His hand was on her stomach, and he traced different words along it, randomly as it came to his mind. When he traced the word ocean, a wistful look crossed her face.

“I miss it so much,” Athena said quietly. “I dream about it when I'm away. Is that concerning?”

He smiled and breathed a laugh. “Considering all the other shit we have dreams about, the ocean is probably the least of your worries.”

“Good point.”

“I miss it too,” Finnick said, after a pause. “It always made things feel more right. I always liked having it there. It felt like... like a reminder of a way out. Of something better. Here, you’re trapped. You’re caged in.” Another pause. “And I miss sailing.”

“Me too,” she said. After a moment, she said with a smile, “I remember when you got the Morning Light... God, I was, like, eighteen.”

“We were so young then,” he said. It occurred to him that neither of them were old yet. In all likelihood, they would never get to be old now. He had never much wanted to grow old, either, once surviving stopped being enough and living became a burden, but Athena had made him think twice about it. Athena made him think twice about a lot of things. He liked it. He was also aware that it might be the end of him.

She seemed to be able to tell from the look of his face that he was thinking about the end. Her face was grim as she looked at him.

“I'm glad we got this, if nothing else... if nothing else, this will be enough. And it won't be for nothing - at least, I hope not. We're doing something worthwhile.”

“I know,” he said. “I'm willing to die for this. I just... never pictured this would be it. Especially not for you.”

And it was true. Finnick had pictured his death many times; his death in this Quarter Quell was something he would've never been able to imagine. As for Athena... he tried not to picture her dying at all, but he knew she was someone who deserved a peaceful, painless death, safe and surrounded by the people who she loved most. Nowhere near the hell of the arena.

“There are worse things,” she murmured serenely. “Much worse things than death.”

That was something they both knew very well. There were worse games to play than this. Still, he thought often about how much better this one really was.

“Do you trust them?” Finnick asked, more out of curiosity than anything else. It wasn’t like it would change anything, how much they trusted Haymitch and Plutarch and this President Coin and everything about this plan. They knew it was the best option and they had agreed to it and they knew, at the end of the day, when the time came, they would follow through with the plan no matter what. But he wanted to know if she had the same uncertainties he did.

“Them? I’m not sure,” Athena said. “Mags seems to, which gives them points in my mind. But I still don’t know.”

“They say they told us everything,” Finnick murmured. “How many people do you think they said that to?”

Athena gave a mirthless smile at that. “I’ve thought about that, too. They did fill in a lot of gaps, though. And I don’t see the benefit in them lying. And even if I don’t trust them... I trust the plan. It makes sense. And I know the best thing is to see it through. These past six years... hell, my whole life... I can’t remember the last time my life wasn’t being ruled by fear or - or worry... I don’t want to be like that anymore. I don’t want that to be what life is like for anyone. If this is what I have to do, it's a risk I'm willing to take.”

“Then it’s decided,” Finnick said slowly, though he knew it had been decided long ago. “And maybe we live.”

After all, the rescue mission would begin three days into the Games. Three days. They only had to survive three days. They had both proven to be able to last much longer. He knew better than to get arrogant, though; who knew what the Gamemakers would throw at them?

“Maybe,” she repeated softly.

Before long, the sky was beginning to lighten. It would be dawn soon. Athena would have to be gone, back to her chambers, before then.

She seemed to be thinking the same thing, because she said, “I should go.”

As she said it, she turned to look at Finnick, before reaching for him, crawling on top of him, and kissing him. Initially, it was meant to be a quick thing, but they both deepened it quickly, kissing more fervently. Their hands roamed the other’s body as they kissed, vehement and passionate and ardent, knowing this was the last time they’d be able to do this. When they pulled away, reality crashed upon him in waves, and he did not want to let her go, though he knew he must.

“I’ll see you soon,” she said gently, with the look on her face she always got when she was trying very, very hard to be brave.

He nodded. “I’ll see you.”

She slipped out of bed, moving around the bed to where they had discarded their clothes the night before. She redressed, rolling up the sleeves of the sweater she had taken from his wardrobe that was much too large for her, and running a hand through her hair (it didn’t do much to settle the curls that had gotten mussed-up last night, and despite everything, his heart lifted and he couldn’t help but smirk at the sight of it). When she was dressed again, she looked back at him, wide, warm brown eyes staring into his eyes. She drifted back over to him silently, leaned down, and kissed him once more, lingering there for a moment, before pulling away again slowly. When they pulled away, neither of them spoke. She just nodded her head once, subtly, before standing up straight, walking silently towards the door, and tiptoeing out of the room.

Finnick stared at the door through which she had disappeared for several long moments, before turning over to stare up at the ceiling. The bed felt awfully cold and empty now, and soon it became overwhelming, so he stood up, picked up a length of rope, and sat at the ledge of the window. He stared out the window, at the city that was now mainly peaceful (it seemed the Capitol had mostly gotten over their outrage at the pregnancy news), tying and untying the rope into various knots idly. It cleared his head, allowed him to think rationally.

In a matter of hours, he would be back in the arena. He would protect Athena, Katniss Everdeen, and Peeta Mellark at all costs. That would mean sacrificing himself, if need be, but also killing anyone else who got in the way. He understood why Haymitch and Plutarch would want someone like him looking out for Katniss and Peeta directly. Killer of seven at fourteen. He looked down at his hands, deftly untying a running knot to tie a lariat loop in its place. Killer of seven at fourteen. It had been a long time since then, but he could still do it. He was capable enough physically, many of these tributes were out of shape, and he didn’t doubt he would have the stomach for it once the time came.

He knew why they would ask Athena, too. She was strong, and killed six in her Games. Still, she had made a promise to avoid killing at all costs. He was not sure how long that would hold up in the arena. He suspected that if the time came, Athena would do what needed to be done, but then and there, he vowed to fight to keep the situation from becoming so dire for her.

He repeated what he needed to do in the arena in his head over and over, almost in time with his fingers using the rope. Get to the arena. Protect Athena. Protect Katniss. Protect Peeta. Get to the arena. Protect Athena. Protect Katniss. Protect Peeta. It was a mantra that made things much clearer.

At dawn, Syrio arrived. He didn't ask why Finnick was naked, which was probably a good thing. It was likely that Syrio barely even took note of it, considering how often he'd seen Finnick naked over the years. It was hardly something of significance. He just gave him a shift to wear and led the way out the room (Finnick had to resist the urge to not grab the necklace of blue shells).

“What time did you get home last night?” Finnick asked Syrio as he led him toward the elevator. “I saw the crowds. Must've made for slow traffic.”

Syrio let out a sigh. “Oh, it must've been well past midnight by the time I finally made it home. It was absolute chaos after... well... you already know... thankfully it all died down by morning, Tatiana and I had no trouble getting here.”

They were in the elevator now. Syrio didn’t press the button to take them to the roof. There was a long, heavy, suspended pause. Syrio looked sideways at Finnick uncertainly, as though he was a little afraid of him.

“That’s all behind us now. That’s... that’s over now. Everything’s back to normal now.”

Panem had not been normal in a year. Finnick didn’t say that out loud, though; Syrio probably knew this, on some level, and was merely choosing to deny it.

Figuring it would serve him well to indulge him in this, Finnick smiled and said, “Right. Of course.”

Then, he reached forward and pressed the button that would take them to the roof.

As soon as they were on the roof, a hovercraft materialized into view, dropping down a ladder. Finnick grabbed hold of it, and an electric current froze him in place as the ladder was lifted up into the hovercraft. He remained frozen until a doctor injected a tracker into his left forearm. Now they would always be able to track him in the arena.

The hovercraft took off. Finnick stared ahead at the windows. Syrio tried to make conversation, and Finnick always replied, but never tried to make much conversation. He had nothing for his stylist. Not today. When the windows blacked out, Finnick knew they were getting close to the arena. Finnick forced down fear, forced down anxiety, forced down rage at the injustice of it all, and made himself calm, made his heart rate slow down, made his breathing be steady. He kept himself carefully in control.

Breakfast was served to them. Finnick wasn't hungry, but he wasn't stupid enough to refuse food when he didn't know when he would eat next. He ate as much as he could keep down without feeling sluggish, and drank about as much water. He would need the strength.

Once they reached the Launch Room at the arena, Finnick showered for as long as he was allowed. Syrio fixed his hair idly, though he didn’t have much materials to work with, and helped him dress over simple undergarments. This year, the tribute outfit was a fitted blue jumpsuit, made of a very sheer material that zippered up the front. There was a six inch wide padded belt that was covered in shiny purple plastic. At his feet were a pair of nylon shoes with rubber soles.

Finnick looked down at the outfit with his brow furrowed, his mind already at work, going a mile a minute. The outfit was thin and light, and there seemed to be no thermal protection. An outfit like this wasn’t meant to withstand cold temperatures, which meant they would likely be somewhere hot. Tropics or desert, likely. But they had already used a desert setting once, with Athena’s Games. Surely they wouldn’t repeat it, especially not for a Quarter Quell? Then again, perhaps they thought it fitting to repeat of an arena when they were repeating of tributes. The irony would be especially vicious with Athena, who had fought to survive the desert just to be thrown back in it again.

Syrio frowned a little as he rubbed the thin fabric between his fingers. “This won’t help you much from the cold or water.”

“What about sun?”

“Maybe,” Syrio said thoughtfully, “if it’s been treated. I’m as clueless as you, I’m only just seeing this now.”

Finnick nodded in understanding. The more he thought about it, though, the more unlikely it seemed they would be thrown into a desert. The outfit they had given the tributes of Athena’s year had been entirely different from this; surely, they would be more similar if the arenas were more similar? Unless the Gamemakers were trying to throw them off...

“No token?” asked Syrio.

Finnick shook his head, thinking about Mags, who was hopefully on her way to see him and Athena off, and give them their jewelry from Haymitch. “It was never my thing.”

“I see,” Syrio said. “Well, it’s a statement, I’ll give you that.”

They fell silent. Syrio had a pained look on his face, and Finnick realized quickly that Syrio was about to cry. Before he could say anything, Syrio spoke.

“I should go,” he said quickly. “Mags said she wanted to speak to you privately, anyway. I just wanted to say...” Syrio took a step closer, taking his arms in his hands, “that it’s been a great honour and privilege knowing you and styling for you all these years. I will be rooting for you and Athena until the very last minute, please know that.”

“I - thank you, Syrio,” Finnick said earnestly. “It means... I appreciate it a lot. And please make sure you give Tatiana my thanks. I wish both of you all the best. You’ve been the best stylists District Four’s ever seen.”

Syrio could barely manage a nod and an okay, before rushing out of the room. Finnick watched him go with an oddly heavy feeling in his chest that he had admittedly not seen coming. Something about his stylists had seemed like colourful, overly excited pets, but not ones to whom he had thought he had been particularly attached. Until now.

With Syrio leaving him alone, it wasn’t long before Finnick started feeling antsy and fidgety. He wished he had rope with him. Tying those knots helped him deal with stress in a way that did not hurt himself or others. He did not have that now. He almost wished he was in the arena so he could just get it all over with once and for all. But no sooner had that thought crossed his mind did Mags enter the Launch Room. Finnick had not realized - or perhaps had not allowed himself to realize - how desperate he was to see Mags until she was right in front of him, and he rushed towards her immediately as soon as she made her way into the room.

“Mags!” he said. “How are you? Was there any problems getting here? Did anyone say anything?”

“I’m fine, Finnick, everything went without a hitch,” Mags said. “I have many things I want to say, but first, let’s make sure this gets done.”

From the pocket of her sky blue cardigan, she pulled out a small, black, simple-looking box. She opened it to reveal the same handsome gold bangle that he had seen on Haymitch’s wrist several days ago. Finnick took it and slipped it on his wrist. The bangle felt a little more restricting on his wrist than he would have liked, but it would do.

“Make sure Katniss and Peeta see this as soon as they see you,” Mags said firmly. “Before either of them can decide they want to kill you.”

“Sounds easy enough.”

“Maybe not as easy as you think,” said Mags, and elaborated at the questioning look on Finnick's face. “I didn't get much time with Haymitch in all the chaos last night, but he did tell me that Katniss and Peeta don't want allies and want to go at this alone. You need to act very carefully and assure them that that's not in their best interests.”

Finnick stared at her, stunned. “They can't be that stupid. They must know being alone is just gonna put a bigger target on their backs.”

“Haymitch shared your frustration,” Mags said with a wry smile. “But it's not just stupidity. If you didn't have... certain obligations right now, wouldn't you be tempted to make this between you and Athena alone?”

“Temptation and action aren't the same,” Finnick said. “Besides, that's different. Me and Athena aren't outsiders the way they are, and we - ”

“Be that as it may,” Mags pressed on, “that is the situation at the time, and apparently Katniss and Peeta are convinced that this is the way to go. That bracelet will help you, but it might not be enough. You're going to need to make sure that they keep you around, however it takes.”

Finnick nodded. “Fine. I'll do it.”

Mags smiled, but there was undeniable twinge of sadness in it. “Thank you. Now, this would be the time where I provide you with some final advice, isn't it?”

“That's normally the drill, yeah.”

“But there's not much for me to say, is there? You know what to do and you know how to do it.”

“I do.”

“Well, then,” Mags signed, “let’s just hope you and Athena remember to be quieter in the arena than you were in your chambers.”

Finnick stared at Mags, stunned and more than a little horrified. “I - you - I - we - we were being quiet - ”

“You forgot how good my hearing is,” Mags said, grinning at the look on his face. “You’re just lucky it was only me in the suite. I’ve let it go because I know you deserved much more time. Whatever you had, I’m glad you got to have it. As long as you made smart choices...?”

“Yes, Mags.”

Mags smiled a little wider. “Good. Now, let me say this,” Mags said, changing the subject, taking a step forward, and grabbing his hand with her free hand. “This - this mission - will be worth it. Whether we ever see it or not. This will be worth it. Do you believe that?”

Finnick saw the look of certainty on Mags’ face, thought about how much she believed this plan, thought back to his conversation with Athena earlier, and found his answer was genuine when he said, “I do.”

Relief spread through Mags’ face, etched into every detail. “I’m glad. I am so glad. And I wish you - I -” her voice was wobbling, and she took a deep, shaky breath in an attempt to steady it - “I wish you all the best with every step you take in there. I will keep such close watch to keep all of you safe in there. And I am so very proud of you, Finnick.” Mags took another step forward, reaching her hand forward to cup his cheek, and Finnick was trying very, very hard not to crack. Mags was one of the strongest people he knew, and yet she seemed so frail then. “Finnick... my son,” her voice cracked as she said it, her eyes shining with tears even as she smiled up at him, vulnerability slipping through the cracks. He knew the feeling. “My son... you might not see it, but I’ve seen you, every step you’ve taken, ever since you were eleven. And I feel nothing but pride looking at the man you’ve become. You came as a blessing to me, and I’m grateful for every day.”

And Finnick was pressing his lips together to keep them from quivering, blinking back tears, because this felt so awfully like a final goodbye. He brought a hand on top of Mags’. “Mags, I don’t know where I’d be if it wasn’t for you - dead or worse, probably. The only reason I’m anything is because of you. And the way you’ve been able to carry yourself and keep going... you’re the real blessing...”

He had meant to say more, but then his voice died without him meaning for it to, unable to keep speaking. It didn’t matter in the end, because Mags pulled him into a warm, bone-crushing hug. Once upon a time, when they had first met, Finnick had actually been an inch or two shorter than Mags, and when they hugged, he'd been able to bury his head in the crook of her neck. Somewhere along the way, his height had shot up to tower over her, and he couldn't do it anymore. He settled instead for resting his chin on top of her head.

“I love you,” he said, the words coming out in a choked, strained whisper. “And I’ll fight to see you again.”

“I love you too,” Mags said at once, hugging him tighter. “One day, this will mean something. One day, life will be more forgiving.”

 _But not today,_ he could not help but think.

When they at last pulled away, Mags said, “I don’t want to leave you alone, but... Athena... there’s only so much time...”

“I understand,” Finnick said, forcing his voice to be steady. “I get it. Get the jewelry to her. Say your goodbyes. I’m just glad I got this.”

Mags gave a weak smile, taking his hand and kissing it briefly. “I’ll see you on the other side.”

“Yeah,” Finnick said, nodding. “I’ll see you.”

Mags lingered for one last moment, as though drinking him in, before turning and walking away as swiftly as she could. Finnick was left alone, twisting the bangle on his wrist and trying to find a way to reign himself in the way he’d been able to only moments ago.

 

*

 

Athena was striding around the room, swinging her arms and legs about, as per Tatiana’s instructions. She was ensuring that the outfit that had been provided for her fit perfectly, which it did. When Tatiana was at last satisfied, Athena became still again and thought about what her outfit might mean for these Games. The outfit was light, not meant to be worn in cold temperatures, and according to Tatiana, wouldn’t provide her much protection from water. It was hard to tell whether it would protect her from the sun. Athena was fairly certain they wouldn’t be anywhere cold; they’d have hypothermia before long in attire like this. They had to be somewhere hot, and considering the light design of the outfit, she was inclined to think either tropics or desert.

The thought of being back in another desert made fear run through her veins, paralyzing her. It felt like mockery, putting her back in there after everything she’d been through... like they were humiliating her... throwing her back in the desert after all she had done to get out of it... perhaps that would be her punishment for her stunt during her evaluations.

She tried to reason with herself, though, as best as she could. Certainly an area that was too close to a past arena would be considered boring to the Capitol, especially during a Quarter Quell, a year where the Gamemakers were expected to go all out? Beside, her outfit for her first Games had been very different from this. If they were going to send the tributes into the desert, wouldn’t their outfits have been similar to what the tributes wore during her Games? It didn’t make sense unless they were doing all of this to throw her off. All logic seemed to point to tropics, but she still couldn’t shake the fear. She doubted she’d be able to until she saw the arena for herself.

And then once she was in the arena... well, at least she knew what she had to do. Protect Finnick, Katniss, and Peeta at all costs, including her own life. She knew that might also mean taking somebody else’s life. She thought back to the promise she made to Rowan Lindell and to herself, to avoid killing at all costs. She would try to uphold that, as best as she could, but she knew it would not killing altogether would be almost entirely unavoidable. She wasn’t foolish enough to try to deny it. And she knew when the time came, she would do what needed to be done. The fact that it was necessary did not make her feel better or any less wrong, but she could at least try to reconcile her actions with herself. She could only hope that Rowan would have understood what she was doing. She suspected he would have, but she had no way of ever knowing, which made all of this even worse.

Tatiana moved behind her to pull her hair back into a neat bun. Tatiana had done an excellent job of remaining composed all week, but ever since she had come to take Athena to the Launch Room, she had been almost stiff. Last time they had been here together, Tatiana had shown full confidence that Athena would make it out of the arena in one piece. It wasn’t entirely clear how Tatiana felt now. Athena wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

When she was done tying her hair back, Tatiana said, “Mags wants to speak to you privately before you go, so I’ll be going soon. But before that, one more thing...”

She pulled out the blue spinel pendant.

“Oh, thank God,” Athena said, relieved, bringing a hand up instinctively to touch her bare neck. “It got cleared?”

“Of course it did. So many people know this necklace because of your first Games - do you know how many knockoffs of this exact necklace I’ve seen in just six years? They knew everyone would’ve been disappointed to see you without it. Turn around.”

Athena turned again, and Tatiana placed the necklace around her neck carefully. Instinctively, Athena’s hand closed around the pendant, kissing it briefly. At that moment, she heard a sniffle, and she whipped around to see that Tatiana had dissolved into tears.

“Tatiana,” Athena said, a little startled. She had suspected that Tatiana was upset, but she still hadn’t been expecting this, composed as Tatiana had been throughout the week. “Tatiana, are - ”

“Oh, I know I said you’d get no tears from me,” she said weakly, her voice shaking, “but that was because I had a job to do, and now - well, now here you are! I’ve done my job! And I just can’t believe this is it!”

“Tatiana, I - ” and Athena didn’t really know what she could’ve possibly said, but it didn’t matter, because Tatiana cut her off by pulling her into a tight hug. And as Tatiana tearfully embraced her just then, Athena knew at once what Tatiana thought her odds were in these Games. As the weight of that sunk in, Athena simply hugged Tatiana back tightly, not knowing what else there was to do.

“You should just know,” Tatiana said when they pulled away, clutching Athena’s hands in her tawny ones, “that these years have been such a pleasure... and that you deserved so... much... _better_.”

“I - thank you, Tatiana,” Athena said finally. “It’s been so... so great to know you too. I couldn’t have asked for a better stylist.”

Tatiana gave her a teary smile, before turning and walking away. On an impulse, Athena called her back.

“Tatiana?”

Tatiana froze at the door, turning to face her again.

“Can - can you tell Syrio I said goodbye?” Athena said. “And - uh - to take care of himself. I didn't get to tell him.”

Tatiana looked close to losing it at that, but managed to keep control, nodding once. “I’ll make sure he knows.”

Tatiana left swiftly after that. Before Athena could be left alone with her thoughts for too long, Mags, to Athena’s enormous relief, came into the room.

“Mags!” she said, hurrying to meet her in the middle. “There weren’t any problems getting here? Smooth sailings?”

“As smooth as they can get,” said Mags. “I have a present for you.”

From the pocket of her cardigan, she pulled out a small, dark, simple-looking box. She opened it to reveal a much smaller version of the golden bangle Haymitch apparently possessed, about the size of a ring. Athena took it, took off her necklace, looped the ring around the chain of her necklace, before putting the pendant back on.

“Make sure Katniss and Peeta see that right away,” said Mags. “You’re gonna want to be extra careful with them.”

“Even more careful than we discussed?” said Athena, raising her eyebrows.

Mags nodded. “I had some time to talk to Haymitch, and he said that Katniss and Peeta have decided to go through these Games alone. They don’t want any allies at all. Finnick had the same reaction when I told him,” Mags added, at the stunned look on Athena’s face. “As did Haymitch when they told _him_.”

“They must realize they already have a bigger target on their backs...”

“I doubt it slipped their notice,” said Mags. “It seems they think the best way to deal with it is to not get anyone else involved. Either way, it’s up to you and Finnick to make them change their minds when it comes to you, and from what Haymitch told me, their minds are set, so the bracelets alone might not be enough anymore. You said you seemed to be in a good place with them during training?”

“They warmed up to me a little,” Athena said slowly, her brow furrowed, “but if they’re swearing off any allies, I don’t know if that little is enough.”

“Make it enough,” Mags said firmly. “It’s the only way.”

Athena nodded, a little grim, but aware of what needed to be done. “I guess I do. Does Finnick know about this too?”

Mags nodded. “I’ve just been to see him.”

“He seemed well?” Athena asked, unable to help but ask even though she knew she’d see him before long.

“Yes. Being with you probably helped. Even if it made me lose sleep.”

It took Athena several seconds to realize what Mags meant by that. When she put it together, she was immediately mortified, her face burning. As well as Athena knew Mags and as understanding as she knew Mags to be, the fact that Mags had essentially raised Finnick made this much worse. “You - I - I didn't realize that we were so - we - ”

“In the future, I hope neither of you underestimate how good my sense of hearing is.”

“In the future, I hope we don't either,” Athena mumbled, and Mags laughed, which was a little reassuring, admittedly.

“Look, in the end, you got to have whatever little time you had. And the fact that that can be said, no matter how you spent it, makes me happy. I mean that.” Mags waited until it became evident that Athena believed her. “Now, let's not waste any more time. What you’re about to fight for the in the arena - do you believe in it?”

“I do,” Athena said, then repeated it, her voice more steady. “I do.”

Mags nodded, smiling with relief. “Good. In that case... you know what to do and how. All that’s left is to forge on.”

Athena nodded. “I’m good at that.”

A mixture of pride and sadness was on Mags’ face now. She took Athena’s hand in hers. “You always have been, as long as I’ve known you. Six years... six years... it feels so much longer. I wish it had been longer. I am so proud of your strength. I hope you see the day you don’t need it so much. You are so much better than you think you are in every way. And I will fight every moment I am alive to make sure you see better days. You deserve nothing less.”

Athena squeezed Mags’ hand briefly, smiling weakly and saying, “Mags, I already owe you more than I can even - ”

“It’s not owing,” Mags said at once. “You are family to me. This is what family does.”

Athena couldn't bring herself to speak at that, so she simply acted, pulling Mags into a tight hug. Mags hugged her back fiercely, wrapping her arms tightly around her, in that way Mags had that could almost make Athena feel safe.

“Thank you, Mags,” Athena whispered, her voice faint. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Thena.”

No sooner had they pulled away did the cool female voice overhead announce that it was time to prepare for launch. For a split second, Athena and Mags merely looked at each other.

Then, Mags zipped the neck of Athena's jumpsuit more securely, then patted her cheek gently and said, “Time to go.”

Athena nodded and walked over to the circular metal plate, Mags trailing a little behind her with her cane. Mags took her hand again, and Athena held onto it tightly.

“This will be worth it,” Mags said. “One day, this pain will be small. There will be days more forgiving.”

Athena could not imagine it, but she knew the possibility was worth fighting for, so she just nodded. At that moment, the glass cylinder slid down around her, forcing their hands apart. Athena didn't look away from Mags, but she held her head high and kept her posture straight, hoping if she could seem composed outside she might become that way inside. She waited for the inevitable, for the plate to lift her up toward the arena, but it didn't happen. She waited longer. Still she remained in the Launch Room. Athena and Mags were looking at each other in confusion now. What was happening? Why were they delaying this?

Suddenly, the door behind Mags slid open, and in walked two, three, four Peacekeepers. She tensed immediately, her heart rate speeding up erratically, frowning at the scene.

“What are you doing here?” she called out, though the glass was muffling her voice so much they might not even be able to make out what she was saying. She also knew that even if they could hear, the likelihood of them responding was slim. “What are you doing?”

As expected, they ignored her. Mags turned to face them, and just as she did, the Peacekeepers charged directly towards her, turned her around, and slammed her face first into the glass cylinder, so forcefully Athena could hear bones crack through the glass. They didn’t stop there, though, slamming her against the glass and hitting her with metal-studded gloves, opening gashes and making the beginnings of bruises on her face and body. Mags was letting out pained cries, thrashing helplessly against them. And Athena was screaming too, so loudly, so desperately that she thought it might give out at any moment, banging on the glass with all her might, as though she could break it and help Mags, save her from these monsters, because hurting Mags like this was monstrous, there was no other word for it. She was screaming no, no, no over and over again, begging them to stop it, let her go, leave her alone, she had done nothing wrong, she did nothing to deserve this, begging that they hurt Athena instead, that they let Mags go and take her instead, but they did not listen, only hitting her again and again and again. Mags went limp, and Athena’s screams turned into shrieks of ‘Mags’ and ‘no’ over and over and over.

Finally, when blood from their attacks was staining the glass, they paused their attack, and Athena thought perhaps they had finished their assault and would leave Mags br, but they only threw her onto her knees, three of the Peacekeepers keeping her upright. The fourth Peacekeeper stood behind her and pointed their gun at the back of her head, and Athena was screaming louder than ever, begging them, no, no, no, no, please, no, not Mags, take her, kill her instead. This was all wrong, surely they couldn’t even pretend there was anything right about this? As she screamed, Athena pounded on the glass so hard she felt a dull pain in her hands. And still, as Athena begged and screamed and punched at the glass, the fourth Peacekeeper pulled the trigger, there was a loud bang that was not muffled even by the thick glass, and Mags’ body fell to the ground, limp and lifeless and bleeding profusely.

Athena thought her head would burst, it was pounding so hard, and her chest felt like it was caving in on itself, closing in, closing in the way the glass cylinder felt like it was closing in on her, and her heart was swelling so painfully she thought that might explode too. She was still pounding on the glass, still screaming, but she was hardly aware of her actions or her voice anymore. Her eyes were stinging with what she was sure were tears, and she could not breathe, trapped in this fucking glass cylinder that seemed to be getting smaller and smaller. She was staring at Mags, unable to look away, bile rushing up and burning her throat. She thought perhaps this might be one of her worst nightmare in its most vivid form, because no way could this be real. All of it was so wrong, none of it was right, there was no way this could be what happened. This simply could not be reality. Mags was a woman almost universally loved for her kindness and her good heart, a woman who had suffered so much for so long, a woman who deserved the most peaceful, painless death the world could offer, when the time was right. Not now, not _this_. Even Snow, who had become suspicious of her activity, would never do something so vile, not to someone like Mags. But seconds passed by and the pain became worse and Athena did not wake up and Mags was still dead and bleeding out on the floor.

She saw blood inside the glass, and for one horrific moment, she thought Mags’ blood had managed to seep through the glass, until she realized she had been pounding on the glass so hard that her knuckles were now bleeding. She was all but throwing herself against the glass, but it would not break under the pressure, unyielding.

And what did it matter, anyway? Even if the glass did break, what would she do? What could she change? Mags was dead, blood still pouring out of her wounds, and the Peacekeepers, uncaring, indifferent, were beginning to drag her limp, frail, now lifeless body out of the room, leaving a trail of blood in their path, her cane laying uselessly on the floor. And Athena did not stop screaming Mags’ name despite having past the point of hyperventilation, did not stop fighting against the restraints of the glass cylinder with all her might.

Athena felt the plate begin to rise beneath her, and she crouched to the ground, trying to keep Mags in view, never once stopping in calling Mags’ name. Within moments, though, the plate had lifted her higher toward the arena, and the Peacekeepers had disappeared with Mags’ body leaving only her cane and all her blood, and then everything went dark.


	17. XVI

**XVI**

 

The darkness the plate lifted Athena into lasted about fifteen seconds. In that time, Athena stopped pounding against her restraints and stopped calling Mags’ name. She still found it nearly impossible to breathe, though, and she realized after a split second that she was sobbing, tears pouring down her face and sobs being ripped from her chest. Mags was dead. She had been killed. It wasn’t a dream, it wasn’t a hallucination, it was real, she had seen it. She felt everything falling apart, something razor sharp piercing her heart, and her lungs still seemed to be closing in on themselves, her head pounding painfully hard.

 _Not Mags,_ she thought. _Not Mags, not Mags, why Mags? Why?_

Even when she thought of the mission, she couldn't wrap her head around why Mags. She was only one part of the plan. Was it simply to send a warning? To lower morale? Or were the other mentors dead too? She couldn't bear to think it. Perhaps Mags was the only one involved Snow knew about? She was heavily involved in the mission... but what about Plutarch? Surely he wouldn't kill the Head Gamemaker moments before the Games were to start? And why kill Mags so violently right in front of her? To break her? She wouldn't put it past Snow. If that had been his goal, it worked.

_Why Mags? Why Mags? Why?_

But at that moment, the glass was retreating and Athena was standing free in the arena, the breeze catching her hair. She squinted against the bright light of the sun, felt her feet get wet, and for one horrific moment she thought it was blood - until she looked down and saw that her metal plate was surrounded by blue waves that lapped up over her boots. There was water spreading out in every direction.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” the voice of Claudius Templesmith, the Hunger Games announcer, boomed overhead, making her jump and her body tense up, “let the seventy-fifth Hunger Games begin!”

The Hunger Games were about to begin. There was only a minute. She needed to - she needed to - what? She couldn’t think straight anymore. Her thoughts were occupied entirely by Mags, the way she looked beaten and bloody, the Peacekeepers dragging her lifeless body away, the injustice and the unfairness and the painfulness of it all... and _why?_ She could think of nothing else, but even then, it was hard to form coherent thoughts with the way her head was pounding, the way her whole body seemed on the verge of melting down over what had been done to Mags. The thoughts were consuming every part of her, overwhelming her, threatening to destroy her then and there. It was painfully tempting to give in to it. Mags, the woman with welcoming eyes and a kind smile, the woman who knew so much without needing to be told, the woman who was always so fiercely clever despite so few seeing it, the woman who saved so many, who saved Athena, who practically raised Finnick... subjected to something so vile and cruel and painful...

Finnick. Where was Finnick? She needed to find Finnick - and Katniss and Peeta and protect them, she knew - but it seemed more important that she tell him about Mags. And perhaps this was foolish and selfish of her, not prioritizing the mission the way she should, and maybe Mags would have called her on it, but she had no way of knowing that now because Mags was -

She needed to find Finnick.

Her eyes scanned the circle of other tributes, squinting against the bright light of the sun, trying desperately to find him, muttering his name over and over again, but he was nowhere to be found. The Cornucopia was blocking him from her view. Frustrated and terrified and still reeling, she gave up trying to find him. She spotted instead someone with a flash of blonde hair and a stocky frame. She couldn’t make out his face, but Athena was fairly certain it was Peeta. The sight of him reminded her of the mission. The mission they had all agreed to take such large risk to complete. The mission that made Mags a target, the mission that, one way or another, was the reason for Mags’ death - of that Athena was sure. This mission was about something far too important, and too much had already been lost and sacrificed for it, for her to fall apart now. So despite the overwhelming pain and grief and fear and confusion she felt then, she forced herself to push it down, grit her teeth, and become the person - not just the person, but the player, the Career - that she needed to be to get the job done.

She took time to relax her breathing, breathing in and out until it was steady again. With steadier breathing came the end to her near hysterical sobbing, as well. That took about fifteen seconds, which left her thirty seconds to get her bearings before the gong sounded, the tributes were free to move off their metal plates, and all hell broke loose.

She stared all around her, trying to understand where she was. Slowly, the world came into focus for her, details coming together. There was water all around her. The sun was hot and blindingly bright, and the sky was tinged a uniform pink. The Cornucopia, the shining gold metal horn, stood about forty yards away from her. At first, Athena thought it was on a circular island, but upon closer examination, she could see thin strips of land radiating from the circle like the spokes of a wheel, all of them appearing to be equidistant from one another. She wasn’t sure how many of them there were at first, until she noted that between the spokes, there was nothing but water and a pair of tributes. That meant there were twelve spokes, each with two tributes balanced on metal plates between them. The other tribute in her watery wedge was Arya Barley of District Nine, about as far to her right as the land strip on her left. Beyond the water, wherever she looked, was a narrow beach and then dense greenery; from the looks of it, and from what she knew about this sort of climate, it was likely a jungle of some sort.

Athena had a feeling the water was saltwater, but knowing she ought to make sure, she bent down and caught a handful of the water as it washed in and smelled it, before touching the tip of her wet finger to her tongue. As she had suspected, it was saltwater. It wouldn’t be safe for them to drink, but at least it seemed clean.

She looked around. There were no boats, no ropes, not even any driftwood to cling to if necessary. No, the only way to get to the Cornucopia - or anywhere off the metal plate, really - was to swim. And for a split second, Athena was almost pleased. She had thought the arena would be some sort of punishment to her. Instead, it was this. Athena was from District Four, the ocean practically in her veins, and swimming was second nature to her, as it was for anyone able to get in the water. She'd swum in waves more turbulent than these before. It did seem awfully cruel, though. She had no idea how many of these victors could swim. It was likely only a handful, she'd wager, given that most districts didn't have access to large bodies of water the way District Four did (it was what saved Annie in her Games, when the flood happened, her being the only of the remaining tributes who could swim). And there was no pool in the Training Center, no opportunity for the tributes to learn. Were the Gamemakers really going to leave so many of them to drown? Perhaps Snow wanted them all dead fast, and the Gamemakers were fulfilling their wishes by drowning a good chunk of the tributes right at the beginning of the Games. Perhaps this was their punishment for their little exhibit during the interviews.

She wondered if Katniss and Peeta could swim. There didn't seem to be many opportunities to learn in District Twelve. Her eyes wandered to the distant figure that she remained fairly certain was Peeta. She forced her doubts back, as well. If they couldn't swim, that would have to be dealt with after the gong sounded. She'd race to the Cornucopia, grab weapons, find Katniss and Peeta, and pull them out if need be.

With that resolution in mind, she faced forward. She had no view of the inside of the Cornucopia, an advantage she had had during her first Games, allowing her to know what she was going to get from the Cornucopia before she even got there. She'd have to examine what was there and take what she needed fast once she reached the Cornucopia.

Ten seconds now. At some point, a few curls had freed themselves from the bun Tatiana had pulled them into. She tucked them behind her ears to keep them out of her face. She breathed in and out again, breathing deeply, steadying herself. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting.

Finally, the gong sounded, and Athena did not hesitate before diving easily to her left. As she swam at top speed, cutting effortlessly through the waves, she noted her body felt surprisingly light. She wondered if the suit had anything to do with it. Once she reached it, Athena hoisted herself up easily onto the land strip and immediately took off at a sprint towards the Cornucopia, minding her step so she wouldn't slip.

She looked around her for any sign of incoming adversaries. Arya was still on her metal plate, and Athena knew at once that she couldn't swim. Wyatt Edison of District Five was running on the spoke to her left, looking at her with wild eyes. Athena wasn't sure if he aimed to attack her once they reached the Cornucopia or if he was scared she'd try to attack him. Before she could decipher it, he slipped and fell back into the water. Athena charged forward.

She'd taken two steps on the circular center of the arena before Gloss appeared in front of her, throwing a heavy punch directly at her face. Athena dodged with ease, ducking under his arm so that she stood behind him. She grabbed his head and slammed it into the metal Cornucopia wall, before kicking him to the ground. She ran before he could orient himself again, but soon she was face to face with Enobaria, who was grinning at her so her sharp fangs were bared. Enobaria charged at her, rushing forward and aiming a punch at her, but Athena ducked, kicking her in the shins. Enobaria grunted in pain, but aimed another punch. Athena dodged that, but when she was caught off guard, Enobaria grabbed her by the throat, slamming her against the Cornucopia wall and tightening her grasp on her.

“Like the arena, Four?” Enobaria snarled.

Athena didn't answer, and instead kneed her in the stomach with all her might, before kicking her in the shins again and stomping on her foot. The pain made Enobaria lessen her grip, and Athena managed to pry her fingers off her throat. She punched Enobaria in the face, hard enough to send her stumbling back, clutching her face.

“It’s alright,” Athena said finally. “What about you?”

“Probably can't like it as much as you, mermaid girl. It's like they made it just for you and Odair.”

Athena could detect a note of bitterness in her voice. She supposed she could understand it. Clearly, Enobaria could swim, because she wouldn’t be standing there if she couldn’t, but there was no denying that being from District Four presented a huge advantage. She felt rather terrible for the other tributes.

She also knew better than to display anything that could be interpreted as weakness in front of Enobaria, so she merely smirked and said, “Maybe. Don't get too jealous.”

“Never,” Enobaria scoffed, and charged for her again.

Enobaria's nails were razor sharp too, and she clawed at her the moment she was close enough. Athena dodged it, and immediately Enobaria kicked her in the chest, sending her stumbling backwards. Enobaria grabbed her, turned her around, and brought her into a chokehold. Instinctively, Athena slammed them back against the Cornucopia. She repeated the motion over and over again with all the force she had, until she felt Enobaria’s hold on her loosen. Athena freed herself, grabbed tightly onto Enobaria by the arm, took several steps forward until she was at the edge of the island, and judo flipped her onto the water again. Enobaria hit the water with a loud, sharp splashing noise and sunk to the depths below.

Knowing she'd come back up before long, Athena made to run, but she sensed someone behind her. She turned to see Chaff standing there. For a moment, they simply stared at each other. Chaff and Seeder were in on this mission, surely he wouldn't attack, right? But this was the arena. Anything could happen. She didn't dare slip into a false sense of security. She stood at the ready, prepared to fight if necessary. A flicker of recognition passed through his eyes. He must have realized District Four was a part of the mission. He started to back away. Athena nodded at him, turned, and ran the rest of the way to the mouth of the Cornucopia.

Most years, the supplies were spread out quite a distance from the Cornucopia, with the most valuable closest to the horn. This year, perhaps due to the lack of space the area provided, the supplies were piled up in the twenty feet high mouth. Lying before her was the dead body of Wyatt Edison, still bleeding profusely from what Athena was certain was a wound from a trident. Swallowing down horror at the sight of his body and pain for the man who'd always been funny and rather kind to her, she kneeled down to close his eyes gently, stepped over his body, and continued on her way, knowing who'd she'd find.

As she suspected, Finnick was there, a trident in one hand and a net dangling in the other, and her chest ached at the reminder of the news she needed to tell him. Before she could dwell on it, she realized that Katniss Everdeen was also there. She had already gotten her hands on a bow and arrow, which she pointed at her as soon as she sensed her presence.

“Hey, careful, Girl on Fire,” Athena said immediately, though she kept calm, and grabbed her necklace to show off the golden ring that was hanging from the chain now. “Keep your friends close, right?”

Confusion crossed Katniss’ face. Her eyes flickered over to Finnick's wrist, and in the sunlight glinted the solid gold, flame-patterned bangle that matched the ring on Athena's necklace perfectly. She seemed to be putting the pieces together in her mind, realising that Haymitch had given the jewelry to them as a signal to trust them. And they were in what was almost universally agreed upon as the most dangerous part of the Games. She needed to decide fast what she needed to do, and she knew it. Slowly, Katniss lowered her bow.

“Right!” she snapped angrily, and Athena could not blame her; she'd probably be similarly dismayed if she found out that her allies had been chosen for her without her consent.

There was no time to dwell on that or the guilt she felt knowing that she was deceiving Katniss and Peeta. Instead, she looked around, found a collection of spears, and hastened to pick one up. She weighed it in her hands for a moment and determined that it was the same sort of spear she typically wielded. At first glance, she couldn't find a shield anywhere. She'd have to look more closely.

She turned to Finnick and Katniss. “Don't trust One and Two.”

“We were establishing that when you got here,” said Finnick.

Athena raised her eyebrows at that. “Didn't realize I was late to the party.” She looked around again, searching for someone who evidently was not there. “Where's Peeta?”

If Katniss was there, it meant somehow she'd learnt how to swim, but what about Peeta? Did he know? Was he still stuck on his metal plate?

“I don't know,” Katniss said, and it seemed she was fighting not to look worried. “I was going to go looking for him - ”

“Let's focus on getting what we need first,” Finnick said firmly. “We can do more for him with weapons.”

Katniss looked hesitant, but nodded.

“Let's split up,” Athena said.

They did as she said, and the three of them went to different sections of the Cornucopia. She scanned her section quickly. All she could see were weapons; maces, swords, knives, bows and arrows, tridents, spears, axes, more... and nothing else. No food rations or drinkable water, no medical supplies, nothing but weapons. Athena sighed and shook her head; she understood that Plutarch couldn’t make this a walk in the park for them, especially considering what went on during evaluations and during the interviews, but still, he was not making it easy to keep Katniss and Peeta or anyone alive.

 _As long as he doesn’t pull anything else..._ she thought.

She knew to expect nothing less of him, though. Snow's goal was to kill all of them but one quickly and likely in the most brutal manners possible, and Plutarch had to make it look like he had the same goal. And perhaps Plutarch thought they wouldn't need much help when it came to food and water and medical supplies since they would only be there for three days.

“Anything useful?” she heard Finnick shout.

“Weapons,” Katniss called. “Nothing but weapons!”

“Same here!” Athena shouted.

“Me too,” Finnick confirmed. “Grab what you want and let’s go!”

She grabbed four knives, two other spears, and slid them into her utility belt, before searching for a shield. She could not find one anywhere, though, and soon she had to give up, knowing there wasn’t enough time to keep looking. There would be no protection in these Games, it seemed. She made sure her weapons were stowed away securely in her utility belt, then raced to meet up with Finnick and Katniss at the front of the pile. She came around in time to see Katniss shoot an arrow at Enobaria, who had definitely come back too close for comfort, but Enobaria was expecting it and dove back into the water to avoid the arrow. Katniss shot at Gloss next, who wasn’t quite as swift as Enobaria, and Katniss’ arrow sunk into his calf as he plunged into the waves.

“Do something about that, will you?”

Finnick was referring to Brutus, who was now barrelling towards them. His belt was undone and he was stretching it between his hands as some sort of shield. Katniss shot at him, but he managed to block the arrow with his belt before it could skewer his liver. Where it punctured the belt, some sort of purple liquid spewed forth, coating his face. As Katniss reloaded, Brutus flattened to the ground, rolled the few feet to the water, and submerged. There was a clang of metal falling behind them.

It wouldn’t be long until they were all back, though, and Cashmere would likely be joining them soon, the four classic Careers no doubt having an alliance. Between Athena, Finnick, and Katniss, she knew the odds were very much in their favour in a fight against them, but there was more than just them to think about. Peeta was still nowhere to be found, and it was more important that they made sure he was alive and safe before they thought about fighting anyone else.

“Let's get out of here,” Athena said firmly.

Katniss at last found Peeta, still stranded on his metal plate. Katniss took off immediately, and Athena and Finnick followed closely behind without question. When they were as close to him as they could get on land, Athena dropped her spear and began removing her weapons from her belt, saying, “I’ll get him.”

Katniss looked immediately suspicious. “I can do it.”

Athena knew at once that she was wondering if this was all some sort of ruse and Athena intended to drown Peeta. Had she been in Katniss’ position, she would have been suspicious too, but she knew it had to be either her or Finnick who brought in Peeta. Bringing Peeta to land safely would show both Katniss and Peeta that they could be trusted - or at least, that they were useful - for one thing. For another, if Katniss was the one that went out to him, that gave them a window, albeit a small one, to discuss Athena and Finnick and whether they should work with them or turn on them. This plan would work out much better if they didn’t get the opportunity to do that.

Finnick was evidently thinking along the same lines as her, because he dropped a hand on Katniss’ shoulder and said, “Let her do it. She’s got a lot of experience with this sort of thing.”

Which was true. Teaching kids the basics of sailing and fishing were preceded by swimming lessons to make sure they were at a level of ability they needed to be at, which meant there had been a handful of times where Athena had had to bring a struggling or even drowning kid to shore. Peeta was significantly bigger than those children, but it wasn’t like there weren’t times where even adults on the docks needed the help, and Athena was sure she’d have the strength to do it.

“Besides, better not to exert yourself. Not in your condition,” Finnick added, and lowered his hand to pat her abdomen.

Katniss seemed to only remember then that she was supposed to be pregnant. Athena almost smiled at the look on her face. She positioned herself at the edge of the water. She looked around her, at any potential adversaries. No one seemed very interested in them, though. Sure enough, Cashmere, Gloss, Brutus, and Enobaria have all gathered at the Cornucopia, their pack already formed, and were now picking their weapons. Most of the other tributes still seemed stuck on their metal plates. Still, it never hurt to be safe.

“Do me a favour,” Athena said over her shoulder, “and cover me.”

With that, she jumped into the water in another graceful dive. She began swimming at top speed towards Peeta, and was soon at his metal plate.

“Need some help?” she said casually in greeting.

He didn’t respond immediately, staring down at her, suspicion in his bright blue eyes. He looked over at the direction she came from, his eyes landing on Finnick and Katniss, who were alternating between watching them and keeping a lookout for any potential enemies. It was clear he didn’t know what to make of this, Katniss with her and Finnick when they had agreed they would do this alone, Athena right in front of him, offering to help.

“How do I know I can trust you?” he said finally.

Athena’s hand went to her necklace, showing off the gold ring again. “Look familiar to you?”

Recognition crossed his face. He whispered, “Haymitch...”

Athena nodded once, giving him a significant look. “Finnick’s got one too.”

He seemed torn for a moment. He and Katniss had had an agreement, but this piece of jewelry was a sign from his mentor that she was to be trusted.

“You don’t have to trust me,” Athena said finally. “You don’t have to do anything, really. The choice is yours. But it’s a choice you’re going to have to make pretty fast. Besides, if I was going to kill you, don’t you think I would’ve done it by now? I could’ve just pulled you in and drowned you and gotten it over with right away.”

For a second, he still looked uncertain. His gaze flickered over to Finnick and Katniss again, before settling on her. He stared at her for a moment, looking between her face and the ring dangling from her necklace, before he finally seemed to make up his mind. He stretched out his hand, and allowed Athena to pull him carefully into the water.

“Hang on,” she said, and with one arm around his chest, she used her other arm to propel them through the water quickly with easy strokes. Peeta rode along without resisting. When they reached the sand, Katniss helped haul Peeta up onto dry land. Athena pulled herself up with ease, pushing a few loose, wet curls from her face.

“Hello again,” Peeta said to Katniss, kissing her quickly. “We’ve got allies.”

“Yes. Just as Haymitch intended.”

“Remind me, did we make deals with anyone else?”

“I don’t think so,” said Katniss. “I guess we’ll find out, though.”

“This is going to go great,” Finnick said, quiet enough that only Athena could hear.

Athena cracked a smile but elbowed him gently, her eyes scanning the arena. The other Careers were still at the Cornucopia and weren’t paying them any mind, which was fine with Athena. Most of the tributes were still on their metal plates, but she saw Beetee about three spokes away, flailing in the waves but managing to keep his head above water. It was clear he couldn’t swim, but something was keeping him afloat. What was it? There was nothing physical to hold onto, so how was he keeping his head above water?

Athena looked down at her outfit, her hands wandering to the belt, thoughtful. In District Four, there were belts that were given to beginner swimmers - different from these ones, they didn’t look nearly this fancy, but the same general design - that were actually floatation devices that prevented them from drowning. She wondered if these belts did the same thing. Deciding to test her theory, she jumped back into the water. She fought the instinct to tread the water and instead kept her body completely still. Despite that she was doing nothing to keep herself afloat, she did not sink, confirming her theory. She pulled herself back onto dry land after several moments of this, and at the odd looks Finnick, Katniss, and Peeta were all giving her, explained herself.

“Look at Beetee,” she said, pointing him out. “He obviously can’t swim, but he hasn’t drowned yet, and there’s nothing for him to hold onto, so I was wondering how he’s doing it. Turns out, it’s this.”

She pointed at her belt. Katniss and Peeta still looked confused, but Finnick understood at once, recognition and understanding on his face.

“Well, would you look at that,” he murmured, looking down at his own belt. His gaze wandered over to Beetee. “Good for him for figuring that out.” At the looks on Katniss’ and Peeta’s faces, he elaborated. “The belts. They’re floatation devices. I mean, you have to propel yourself, but they’ll keep you from drowning.”

Understanding crossed their faces. Athena looked back over at Beetee, hesitating at the sight of him. Johanna and Blight were charged with the task of protecting him and Wiress for Katniss, but if Athena or Finnick could just pull him out now and find the others... it would take time, certainly, and it would be safer to get away as soon as possible, but still, surely it'd be easier if they were all together from the start, rather than having to find each other later?

She had no time to suggest the idea to Finnick, no time to figure out how to bring it up in front of Katniss and Peeta without making them suspicious of the plan or decide if she should just use sign language, because then Katniss was saying, “Let's move on.”

This surprised Athena a little. Didn’t Katniss want Beetee on her team? Maybe she figured teaming up with him wasn’t worth the risk that heading over to him and pulling him out presented. Either way, Athena let it go, decided to let the mission go on as originally planned. Athena bent down to stow away her four knives and two of her spears in her belt, gripping her third spear tightly in her hand. Katniss handed Peeta a bow, a sheath of arrows, and a long knife. Finnick grabbed her arm, his touch gentle. She looked up at him.

“Are you okay?” he asked, looking at her carefully. “Not hurt or anything?”

“No, I’m fine,” she said, though the lull in immediate action reminded her of Mags, bringing about a tortuously painful ache in her chest. “What about you?”

“I’m good too,” Finnick said.

“Listen,” she said, her voice urgent, “I have something to tell you. Something important. But...” she looked around her, at Katniss and Peeta, who were watching them, at the other tributes around them, “but not here. Later. When we’re somewhere safer.”

He looked concerned, but he nodded in understanding. He faced forward. “Let’s go.”

With that, the four of them began to run, away from the Cornucopia, heading instead for the beach and the greenery and the mystery that laid ahead.


	18. XVII

**XVII**

 

Once the sand ended, the scenery was replaced by the jungle, rising sharply. Most of trees had smooth trunks and few branches. The earth below them was black and spongy, often obscured by tangles of vines with colourful blossoms. The sun was hot and bright, but the air was warm and heavy with moisture, and Athena soon got the impression that was impossible to ever be fully dry here. The thin blue fabric of her jumpsuit allowed the seawater to evaporate easily, but soon it began to cling to her with sweat.

Peeta led the way, cutting through the patches of dense vegetation with his long knife. Athena and Finnick followed behind him, with Katniss bringing up the rear. It didn't take long, between the steep incline and the stifling heat, to become short of breath. Athena and Finnick were in good shape and had been training intensely, and apparently so had Katniss and Peeta, because it wasn't until they had covered several miles that they stopped to rest. The foliage blocked the wheel from view, so Katniss scaled a tree with rubbery limbs to get a better view. Athena, Finnick, and Peeta stayed on the ground, on the lookout for any threats.

She was gone for several long minutes. Athena wondered what she was seeing. A battleground, certainly. They might have had a moment of unity last night, but that didn't change the nature of the Games. Perhaps it made things worse that they showed no restraint or reluctance before jumping right into massacre mode, especially since they had all known each other. They had all been friends. Still, this was the Hunger Games. Compassion and decency never got anyone out alive.

Katniss knew this too. She was bound to know it. And she was bound to act on it, too. Athena and Finnick might have been able to form a tentative trust with her, but that might not be enough, especially once Katniss saw the bloodbath likely still going on and realized once and for all what the only way to make it out alive was. Athena exchanged glances with Finnick, who seemed to be thinking exactly the same thing. He was holding his trident in a casually defensive position. Athena straightened up a little, clutching her spear more tightly. When Katniss returned, her posture tense and a look of grim resolve on her face as her grey eyes landed immediately on them, their suspicions were confirmed.

“What’s going on down there, Katniss?” Finnick asked. “Have they all joined hands? Taken a vow of nonviolence? Tossed their weapons in the sea in defiance to the Capitol?”

"No.”

“No,” Finnick repeated. “Because whatever happened in the past is the past. And no one in this arena was a victor by chance. Except maybe Athena. _Maybe_. And maybe Peeta too.”

She shook her head, but said nothing. His words were a reference not to incompetence, but to the promise she’d made to herself and Rowan not to kill unless absolutely necessary, a vow she had kept that she supposed made him figure she was somehow good in a way the rest of these victors were not. But she still did what needed to be done, and those things were not always good things - in fact, they often were not - and he knew that. And Peeta seemed decent, too, good in a way the rest of them were not. No wonder Katniss had a mind to protect him. Perhaps she felt he deserved it the most.

Finnick and Katniss held each other’s gazes. They were sizing each other up, comparing each other’s speeds. Katniss was calculating the time it would take to send an arrow throw Finnick’s brain versus a trident through Katniss’ body. Finnick was trying to calculate how to keep the conflict from spiralling out of control. Athena, however, knew the best way to do this was to stop it from happening altogether, and Katniss wouldn’t back out of a fight until she knew Athena and Finnick weren’t people she needed to worry about. Or perhaps just people that she wouldn't want to lose just yet.

Athena looked between Finnick and Katniss, before stepping in between them and saying, “Look, this is fun and all, but any time you two are ready to start talking about something actually useful is good with me.” She turned to Katniss and Peeta. “I hate to break this to you, but you two both have a target on your backs that isn’t getting smaller anytime soon. Being alone isn’t going to help you. And it never hurts to have help on your side during the Games. At the end of the day, none of us can accomplish what we want without each other,” she said, and she gave Finnick a pointed look at that. “Besides, even if we do brawl it out right now, we’ll still be dehydrated and without any water, so how much of a better position would you really be in? Long story short? We’re all screwed without each other. So the sooner you two stop with your dick measuring contest, the sooner we can get moving.”

Athena gave Finnick another pointed look, posing a silent question. He didn’t lower his trident, but she knew from the look on his face that he was on her side. He would not fight. He would figure out another way. She looked over at Katniss, but before she had the time to decipher what was going on in her head, Peeta spoke,

“Athena’s right,” he said, also stepping in between Finnick and Katniss. Before it could be debated how right Athena was, he turned to Katniss and said, “So how many are dead?”

Katniss seemed reluctant to focus on anything but whether or not she would kill Athena and Finnick then and there, frustrated that Peeta had stepped into the line of fire, but she replied, “Hard to say. At least six, I think. And they’re still fighting.”

“Let’s keep moving. Athena had a good point, we still need water.”

So far, there had been no signs of a freshwater pond or stream, and the saltwater was undrinkable. Unable to help herself, Athena thought of her first Games, the struggle to find water, the near constant thirst, the threat of dehydration lingering over her head at all times...

“Better find some soon,” said Finnick. “We need to be undercover when the others come hunting us tonight.”

We. Us. It was purposeful wording from Finnick, making them sounded like a team. A good choice. Katniss eyed them for a few moments, before she lowered her weapons, her posture relaxing just slightly. She let the moment pass. And so did Athena and Finnick.

As they began walking again, Athena signed to Finnick, as subtly as she could so that Katniss and Peeta wouldn’t notice, “You know, if memory serves me correctly, you used to be a lot better at making friends.”

“I was under the impression that this was the Hunger Games, not a friendship-building event.”

“Don’t pull that on me,” she signed, shooting him a look. “We as Careers were taught to operate a certain way when it comes to the Games, sure, but she didn’t. Sure, we spent our whole lives learning that it doesn’t matter if you like or even trust your ally, but she didn’t. This isn’t going to work unless she feels like she can genuinely trust us. Which means the last thing you need to be doing is condescending her. I mean, if I was her, I’d probably want to kill you by now.”

“You’d never.”

“You’re right,” she admitted. “I wouldn’t. But she might, under the right circumstances. So let’s just... be careful about this, alright? Let’s be smart.”

Finnick couldn’t deny that she had a point, so he argued no further.

Athena’s thirst only intensified as time went on and they traveled further. She kept a sharp eye out as they continued their trek upward, but with no luck. After about another mile or so, she saw the end of the treeline and assumed they were reaching the crest of a hill.

“Maybe we’ll have better luck on the other side,” said Katniss. “Find a spring or something.”

But there was no other side, Athena realized far too late. Katniss, even though she was the farthest back, was ahead of her. She noticed the rippling square like a warped pane of glass in the air, in a fixed space, not shifting when she moved, and connected it to what Wiress and Beetee said of force fields before Athena could. By the time the warning cry left her lips, Peeta’s knife swung right at it to slash away at some vines.

There was a sharp zapping sound. For a split second, the trees were gone and she saw an open space over a short stretch of bare earth; then, Peeta was flung back from the force field, knocking Athena and Finnick to the ground, Athena landing on top of Finnick. Momentarily winded, she gave her head a shake before scrambling off him. As they straightened up again, their eyes landed on Katniss and Peeta. Katniss had scrambled over to where Peeta was lying motionless in a web of vines. She kept calling his name, shaking him, but he was unresponsive. She brought her head to his chest, and then a look of distraught immediately crossed her face.

“Peeta!” she was screaming, shaking him harder than ever, even slapping his face, but he was still unresponsive. “Peeta! His heart stopped! He’s not breathing, he’s not breathing! He’s not breathing!”

Reacting immediately, Finnick leapt to his feet, rushed forward, and pushed Katniss out of the way, saying, “Let me.”

His fingers touch points at Peeta’s neck, running over the bones in his ribs and spine. He pinched Peeta’s nostrils shut.

“No!” Katniss screamed, hurling herself at Finnick, evidently thinking that Finnick aimed to hurt him even further.

Athena leapt forward and held Katniss back, keeping her from touching Finnick. Katniss struggled violently against her, but she held her fast, keeping from grabbing onto her weapons.

“Stop! Katniss, stop, he’s helping him!” Athena yelled out. “He’s helping him! Just wait!”

Katniss still thrashed against her, so Athena kept a tight hold on her. Keeping Peeta’s nose blocked off and his mouth tilted open, Finnick leaned down and began blowing air into his lungs. Katniss was so shocked by the sight of it that she suddenly went still. Athena realized this probably wasn’t a sight that was seen every day in District Twelve, and in all likelihood, Katniss probably thought Finnick was kissing Peeta. But every student in the academy was taught cardiovascular resuscitation, and nobody was allowed to do much over at the docks unless it had been verified that they knew this like the back of their hand.

Finnick’s efforts seemed to be working; Athena could see Peeta’s chest rising and falling as Finnick blew air into his lungs. He then unzipped the top of Peeta’s singed jumpsuit and began to pump the spot over his heart with the heel of his hands. It was then that Katniss seemed to understand what Finnick was trying to do.

“Come on, Peeta,” Athena whispered. “Come on, Peeta, come on...”

Minutes of this drag by, Finnick switching between mouth-to-mouth and compressions, the air heavy with fear, and just when Athena was thinking with a heavy heart that perhaps Peeta was dead, gone, unreachable, he at last gave a small cough and Finnick sat back.

Athena released Katniss at last, though a part of her suspected that she wouldn’t have been able to keep her from flinging herself at Peeta, leaving her weapons in the dirt. Athena drifted to where Finnick was sitting back on his knees, panting a bit from the heat and and the climb and the effort from reviving Peeta, placing a hand on his shoulder quick enough to make it look like an innocent gesture between friends. She kept a watchful eye on Katniss and Peeta.

“Peeta?” Katniss said softly, brushing damp blond strands of hair from his forehead.

His eyes fluttered open to meet hers, saying weakly, “Careful. There’s a forcefield up ahead.”

Katniss laughed at that, but tears were streaming down her cheeks.

“Must’ve been a lot stronger than the one on the Training Center roof,” he said. “I’m alright, though. Just a little shaken.”

“You were dead! Your heart stopped!” Katniss burst out, then clapped her hand over her mouth because she was letting out these choking noises that Athena knew usually accompanied sobbing.

“Well, it seems to be working now,” he said. “It’s alright, Katniss.”

She nodded, but the sounds didn’t stop. Athena was rather surprised by what she was seeing. Katniss was on the verge of hysterics with relief that Peeta was alive. Certainly, Katniss wanted to protect Peeta, and she had already sacrificed a great deal for him, but it had never occurred to Athena that she cared _this much_ about him. She had always thought that Peeta was the one who actually felt something for Katniss, while Katniss merely put on a show for the cameras, but Katniss wasn't this good of a liar. She didn't know anyone who was. Her eyes found Finnick's, who seemed to be thinking along the same lines as her.

“Katniss?” Peeta said, now looking concerned.

“It's okay, it's just her hormones,” said Finnick. “From the baby.”

“No, it's not - ” she got out, but she was cut off by another round of hysterical sobbing.

Finnick constantly pulling the baby card was probably a good thing for the moment, since it provided an explanation and an excuse to all watching, particularly sponsors, as to why Katniss was such a mess.There seemed to be no denying it now, that she cared about him. That she loved him. How, Athena didn't know. Young as she was, as muddled as everything had gotten, she doubted Katniss even knew. But Athena could not look at her now and think anything but that Peeta meant so much to Katniss that she could not bear to lose him. Finnick was looking between Katniss and Peeta like he was trying to figure something out, but then shook his head as though to clear it.

“How are you?” he asked Peeta. “Do you think you can move?”

“No, he has to rest,” Katniss said at once.

Her nose was running and she had no fabric to use as a handkerchief. Athena's eyes landed on the moss hanging from a tree limb. After determining that it wasn't poisonous, Athena ripped a handful of it off, pleased to find that it was soft and absorbent to touch, and handed it to Katniss. It wasn't ideal, but it was the best they had, which Katniss seemed to realize, because she blew her nose loudly and wiped the tears off her face.

Calming down a little now, Katniss reached out and grabbed the disk that hung from a chain around Peeta’s neck. Upon closer inspection, Athena realized that the disk was engraved with Katniss’ mockingjay.

“Is this your token?”

“Yes,” he replied. “Do you mind I used your mockingjay? I wanted us to match.”

“No, of course I don’t mind,” Katniss said with a smile.

Athena was weighing the pros and cons of this. It would probably give the rebels in the districts a boost, but she doubted Snow would take this lightly, which would make protecting Katniss and Peeta that much harder.

“Should we set up camp here, then?” Finnick asked, pressing on.

“I don’t think that’s an option,” said Peeta. “Staying here. With no water. No protection. I feel alright, really. If we could just go slowly.”

“Slowly is better than not at all,” Athena said, extending her hand towards Finnick, who took her hand, allowing her to help him onto his feet again. Athena and Finnick then pulled Peeta carefully to his feet, while Katniss took the time to pull herself together. Athena couldn’t blame her for this reaction; she remembered how she’d been after seeing Mags die, barely able to pull herself together out of necessity, and if she thought Finnick was dead...

Katniss checked over her weapons, probably to give herself something to do and make herself look more put together, before announcing, “I’ll take the lead.”

Peeta was about to protest, when Finnick said, “No, let her do it.” he turned to Katniss. “You knew the force field was there. You noticed it, right at the last second. You were about to give a warning.”

Katniss nodded. There was an awkward silence at that. Beetee and Wiress were the reason any of them knew about the force field and the square patch that they called a flaw in the system. Revealing that was dangerous. They had a very valuable piece of information, and if the Gamemakers knew they had it, they might do something to alter the force field so that they could no longer see the flaw.

“I don’t know how I knew,” Katniss lied at last. “It’s almost as if I could hear it. Listen.”

The four of them fell silent. There was the sound of insects, birds, and the breeze in the foliage.

“I don’t hear anything,” said Peeta.

“I don’t either,” Finnick said, “but if you do, by all means, take the lead.”

Evidently deciding to play this for all it was worth, Katniss turned her head from side to side and said, “That’s weird. I can only hear it out of my left ear.”

“The ones the doctors reconstructed?” said Peeta.

“Yeah,” she said, then shrugged. “Maybe they did a better job than they thought. You know, sometimes I do hear funny things on that side. Things you wouldn’t normally think have a sound. Like insect wings. Or snow hitting the ground.”

It was an exaggeration, certainly, but at least it took the attention off of her and onto the surgeons who apparently have given her the hearing of a bat.

Finnick quickly fashioned a staff out of a branch for Peeta, which Athena was glad for, because despite his protestations, Athena got the distinct impression all Peeta really wanted to do was lie down. Katniss took the lead now, with the force field to her left, since she said that was the side from which she could hear it. Since that was all made up, she cut down a bunch of hard nuts that hung like grapes from a tree and tossed them ahead of her as she went. When a nut hit the force field, there was a puff of smoke before the nut lands, blackened and with a cracked shell. Athena grabbed a handful of the nuts, examining them closely, and was pleased to find that they weren’t poisonous, taking note of them and their location. They’d need food before long. Peeta followed after Katniss with his staff, and Athena and Finnick brought up the rear. Athena, though alert for any threats all around them, also couldn’t help but stare at Katniss and Peeta thoughtfully.

“We misjudged them,” Athena signed to Finnick as they walked. “Especially her.”

“Yes, that's occurred to me too,” Finnick signed, his brow furrowed. “She almost broke down completely. That's not something you do over someone unless - ”

He didn't finish, but it wasn't necessary that he did; nobody reacted the way Katniss did at the thought of losing Peeta unless they really, truly loved and cared about that person deeply. Had it always been this way? It hasn't always seemed like it, but it was likely they just didn't know Katniss well enough. She was a rather mysterious figure, never open about her emotions or intentions. It was a smart way to live in a place like Panem.

“Well,” Finnick signed, “if we were looking for a test to see if they were being genuine, we got it. And they passed with flying colours.”

Athena wondered if that would make the mission simpler or more complicated. On one hand, it would be easier keeping them both safe if there were no internal conflicts between them about which they needed to be worried. But still, they had strict orders that, if it came down to it, to prioritize Katniss, prioritize the Mockingjay. Athena was now confident that Katniss would not let anything of the sort happen if she could help it.

“On the plus side,” Athena signed, “you made yourself so useful that they aren't going to want to kill you for a while now.”

At that moment, Katniss glanced behind her. Athena and Finnick exchanged glances, agreed silently not to give her any reason to want to kill them again, and talked no further.

They kept walking, Katniss tossing her nuts, trying to find a spot where they could break through to the left, get away from the Cornucopia, and hopefully find some water. It wasn't long until it became evident that this was futile, though. They were making no progress to the left. It seemed instead that the force field was leading them along a curved path. Katniss paused and looked back at them, at Peeta’s exhausted form, at the way they were all sweating.

“Let's take a break,” she said at last. “I need to get another look from above.”

She chose a thick tree that seemed to jut up higher than the rest and began to climb. Once she disappeared out of sight, Athena fixed her gaze on Peeta, who was panting harder than the rest of them.

“You should sit down,” she said.

“I'm fine,” he insisted, but did end up leaning heavily against a sturdy tree.

Athena was on guard, listening closely for any oncoming threats, but she heard nothing but the buzzing of insects, the calls of birds, their own breathing, and the breeze. A little over ten minutes later, the sound of rustling followed as Katniss lowered herself back onto the ground.

“The force field has us trapped in a circle,” said Katniss, almost as soon as her feet touched the ground. “A dome, really. There's the Cornucopia, the sea, and then the jungle all around. Very exact. Very symmetrical. And not very large.”

This made it clearer than ever that Snow wanted them all dead and fast. But she could see Plutarch's careful, strategic thinking in an arena like this; a smaller arena would doubtlessly make a rescue mission much easier.

“Did you see any water?” Finnick asked.

“Only the saltwater where we started the Games.”

“There must be some other source,” Peeta frowned, “or we'll all be dead in a matter of days.”

Athena and Finnick glanced sideways at each other at that, but said nothing.

“Well, the foliage is thick. Maybe there are ponds or springs somewhere,” Katniss said, but her tone was doubtful. “At any rate, there's no point in trying to find out what's over the edge of this hill, because the answer is nothing.”

“There must be drinkable water between the force field and the wheel,” Peeta insisted.

They all knew what that meant. Heading back down, towards the Career pack and the bloodshed. Athena, Finnick, and Katniss were all in decent shape, but Peeta was still too weak to fight. They decided instead to move down the slope a few hundred yards and continue circling in hopes that there would be some water at that level. Katniss stayed in the lead, occasionally chucking a nut to her left, but they were well out of the range of the force field now. The sun beat down on them, turning the air to steam, playing tricks on their eyes. By mid-afternoon, it became clear that Peeta could go no further.

Athena chose a campsite about ten yards below the forcefield, figuring they could use it as a weapon by deflecting their enemies into it if attacked, getting inspiration from her stunt during her evaluation. She and Finnick then pulled blades of the sharp grass that grew in five-feet-high tufts and began to weave them together into mats.

“We should collect those nuts Katniss was throwing,” Athena said as she worked. “I saw them while I was at the edible-plants station, and they’re good to eat.”

Despite everyone's protests that he should be resting, Peeta was the one that did it, collecting bunches of them and frying them by bouncing them off the force field. He peeled off the shells methodically, piling the meats on a leaf. Katniss stood guard, fidgeting the whole while.

Giving herself something to work on, something to focus on, was good for her, but she was still thirsty and hot and raw from the emotions of the day. Soon it was overwhelming. The dehydration was even worse than her first Games, stuck in that blazing hot desert...

“Finnick, Athena, why don’t you two stand guard and I’ll hunt around some more for water.”

They all stared at her at the suggestion. No one much liked the idea of Katniss going off on her own.

“Don’t worry, I won’t go too far,” she promised.

“I’ll go too,” Peeta said.

“No, I’m going to do some hunting if I can,” she said. “I won’t be long.”

“I can go,” Athena said, finishing off another mat and standing up. Katniss looked hesitant. “I’m quick and quiet and you’ll need some sort of back-up. Finnick can keep watch here alone.”

Katniss still looked uncertain, but at last nodded. Athena glanced back at Finnick. He still did not know about Mags. He needed to know. She felt awful enough keeping it from him as it was, but she had wanted to ensure they were somewhere at least somewhat secure first.

“When I get back,” she signed subtly. “Something you have to know.”

His brow furrowed and he looked concerned, but the expression was gone in a second. He nodded.

Athena turned away and followed Katniss through the trees. The ground lent itself to soundless footsteps, making it easier to move stealthily through the jungle. They worked their way down at a diagonal. Athena was keeping an eye out for wildlife, not just as potential food, but because she figured they might be able to follow them and track down their water source, but they found nothing except more lush, green plant life.

“This makes no sense,” Athena whispered. “There can’t be _nothing_.”

“Unless they intend on letting us die of dehydration if we take too long killing each other,” Katniss said, but even then, Athena wasn’t so sure. Watching groups of people, particularly well-known and well-loved victors, all slowly die of dehydration couldn’t be considered quality entertainment, even to the Capitol. “Maybe the dehydration’s meant to make us so desperate we’ll start killing everything we see. They must’ve seen I was close to it earlier, insufferable as Finnick is, and he probably would’ve done it too.”

“Hey,” Athena said sternly, giving her a look, “lay off him.” She turned so that she was facing Katniss more squarely and took a step forward. “I know you don't like him, and you don't have to. But he said he wanted to be allies, and he's done nothing but follow through on that. He's protected you and he saved Peeta's life today. If he wanted to hurt either of you, he would've done it already.”

Noticing that she had tensed, she took a step back, smiled, and said, “He’s not so insufferable if you get to know him. Come on.”

She made to keep moving, but the sound of a cannon brought them both to a halt. The initial bloodbath at the Cornucopia must have been over finally and the death toll of the tributes was now available. Athena counted the shots in her head, each one representing a dead victor. Eight. Not as many as some years. But it seemed like more since she knew them all personally.

“Eight,” Katniss said aloud, before looking to her, as though for confirmation. Athena nodded once, grim.

Katniss leaned against a tree to rest, looking suddenly fatigued. Athena held back a sigh with difficulty, her whole posture slumping, her chest heavy. She rubbed her face blearily, then kept her hands at her face, not wanting anyone, Katniss or the cameras, to see that she was suddenly so close to crying. She wondered who was dead. Wyatt, for sure, because Finnick had killed him, but who else? Every name that came to her mind hurt as much as the last. Thinking about it all made it impossible not to think about Mags... _Mags_...

Athena stopped herself, made herself straighten up. She breathed slowly, in and out, over and over again. Swallowing was becoming difficult and fatigue was creeping on her, but she forced herself not to think of it, to think only of her breathing, until she became composed again. She removed her hands from her face and opened her eyes.

When she did, she found Katniss still there, rubbing a hand across her belly, perhaps hoping to invoke sympathy from some pregnant woman in the Capitol who would then sponsor her and send some water. Several long moments of this passed by, with no such luck. Katniss sunk to the ground. The sight of her just then made her realize why the Gamemakers might have chosen this arena. A sea that stood between them and the Cornucopia. The humid, damp heat of this arena. The trees that didn’t allow for large fires. A place where it was almost impossible for fire to catch and spread. No place for a Girl on Fire.

 _The Capitol was never big on subtly,_ Athena thought.

Athena wanted to tell her that they ought to keep moving, but she didn’t really know what to say. Where would they go? Where would they even start to look for this water that was nowhere to be found?

But then, in the silence and the stillness, she began to notice them. Animals of all sorts; strange birds with brilliant plumage, tree lizards with flickering blue tongues, and something that looked like a cross between a rat and a possum clinging onto the branches close to the trunk.

“Katniss,” Athena whispered, as loudly as she dared. “Katniss, look.”

Katniss looked up and quickly saw them too. She aimed her bow at one of the odd-looking rats and shot it out of a tree to get a closer look. It was much uglier up close, to be sure, a big rodent with a fuzz of mottled gray fur and two wicked-looking gnawing teeth protruding over its lower lip. As Katniss began gutting and skinning it, they noticed something else; its muzzle was wet, like an animal that had been drinking from a stream. Excited, they started at its home tree and moved slowly out in a spiral, figuring that it couldn’t be far, the creature’s water source.

And yet they found nothing. At all. Not so much as a dew drop. Eventually, they were forced to give up, knowing that Finnick and Peeta would be worried. Dejected, frustrated, and hotter than ever, Athena murmured, “Come on,” and led the way back to their camp site.

 

*

 

While Athena and Katniss were away, Finnick did a decent job transforming the place with help from Peeta. He managed to make a hut of sorts out of the grass mats, open on one side but with three walls, a floor, and a roof. Finnick and Peeta plaited several bowls that they filled with roasted nuts.

“Athena taught me,” Peeta said in explanation, when Finnick asked him where he learned to weave like that. “During training. She's a good teacher.”

He was clearly still a beginner and needed to concentrate very hard on what he was doing. Finnick almost envied this; he wished weaving was difficult enough that it required all his attention to do it, because then it would take his mind off the stifling heat and his thirst and those eight cannons that signaled the deaths of people he had known and been friends with and his worry for Athena and whatever she had to tell him. He was driving himself half mad, thinking about who those eight dead people were and where Athena and Katniss could be and what Athena had to tell him that was so awful she got that grief-stricken look on her face when she said she had to tell him something.

He was flooded with relief when Athena and Katniss at last returned. Both Finnick and Peeta looked at them hopefully, but they shook their heads.

“No, no water. It’s out there, though. He knew where it was,” said Katniss, and hoisted up a skinned rodent for all to see. “He’d been drinking recently when I shot him out of a tree, but we couldn’t find his source. I swear, we covered every inch of the ground in a thirty-yard radius.”

“Can we eat him?” asked Peeta.

“I don’t know for sure,” Katniss admitted. “But his meat doesn’t look that different from a squirrel’s. He ought to be cooked...”

But starting any fires was out of the question. Even if they could succeed in starting a fire completely from scratch in such damp, humid conditions, there was the smoke to think about. They were all so close together in this arena, there was no chance of hiding it.

Peeta had another, much better idea. He took a cube of rodent meat, skewered it on the tip of a pointed stick, and let it fall into the force field. There was a sharp sizzle and the stick flew back. The chunk of meat was blackened on the outside but well-cooked on the inside. They gave him a round of applause, remembered where they were, and stopped quickly.

The white sun sunk in the rosy sky as they gathered in the hut. They were all munching on the nuts before long, even Katniss, who had been leery about it for a long time. They were decent, with a slightly sweet flavour that reminded him of chestnuts. Even the rodent was that bad; strong and gamey, but surprisingly juicy. It wasn’t bad at all for their first night in the arena.

Finnick asked a lot of questions about the rodent, which they had taken to calling a tree rat. How high was it, how long did they watch it before Katniss shot it, what was it doing? Athena let Katniss take it over, apparently aware that Finnick was using these questions to get a better idea of what Katniss was like when it came time to hunt, knowing she wouldn’t be overly different when it came to tackling any other part of the Games.

Athena nudged Finnick lightly, before jerking her head towards the exit of the hut. Her face was grim, and he knew that whatever it was she had been meaning to tell him, she was going to do it now. Clearly she wanted some semblance of privacy when she did it, though she must have realized that the place was quiet enough that Katniss and Peeta would probably hear anyway. He followed her out of the hut until they were several steps away, standing between two trees.

“Finnick,” she said slowly, in a voice of forced calm, not quite meeting his eyes, “you need to know... earlier today... earlier today I - there was - they - ”

She stopped herself abruptly, letting out a shaky breath and looking down at the damp, dark ground. Worry was coursing through him now; she looked to be on the verge of tears.

“Athena? What is it?” Finnick said, concerned, and he reached out to take her hand, but remembered where he was at the last second and stopped himself. “What happened? You can tell me.”

When she looked up at him again, her eyes were shining bright with tears, and her voice shook a little as she said, “Before we went into the arena... when I was in the Launch Room... Mags came to see me...”

“I know,” he said with a frown. “I know, she came to see me too. She gave you this, right?”

He indicated the solid gold ring dangling from her necklace.

“She did... she did... but when - when they told me to get onto the metal plate... these Peacekeepers, four of them, they came into the room...” her lower lip was trembling, and there was a deep pain etched into every detail of her face, and immediately, a feeling of dread began forming, deep in the pit of Finnick’s stomach. “They.... they... I couldn’t do anything, the glass had already closed around me, I tried so hard but it wouldn’t break... and they grabbed Mags and they...”

“No,” Finnick said, shaking his head profusely, because she had not even finished telling the story and yet a part of him knew how it ended, and he refused to believe it. “No.”

“They hurt her so much, they wouldn’t stop... and then one of them took out a gun and pointed at the back of her head and... and they killed her.”

Several tears had escaped her eyes, and she hastened to wipe them, staring up at him with wide, grief-stricken eyes. Finnick was aware of himself shaking his head, felt every part of himself deny what he was being told, even though he knew Mags had been on Snow’s radar, even though he knew Athena would never lie to him like this. Every part of himself rejected this, unable to accept it.

“No,” he said again. “No. No.”

“Finnick, I’m sorry,” she said, looking like it took every ounce of her being to stay calm. “I’m so sorry, I couldn’t get out of the glass, I kept trying but it didn’t work. I couldn’t do anything, all I could do was watch...”

“No,” he said again, shaking his head profusely. “No. That can’t be right.”

“Finnick,” she began slowly.

“Maybe she’s still alive - ”

“Finnick.”

“Maybe they just took her somewhere, maybe she’s just - ”

“Finnick,” she said, voice loud and firm enough to get him to stop saying things that were impossible. “Finnick. I saw it. I saw them come in. I saw them grab her and beat her. And I saw them put the gun to her head and - and pull the trigger. I saw it. It was real. And she’s dead. She’s dead.”

She looked almost nauseous with grief, her eyes still shining. He wanted to reach out to her, but she seemed to be a million miles away, and only moving further away. It wasn't until his back slammed against one of the trees that he realised that it was him moving away from her.

Mags could not be dead. She couldn't be. How could Mags be dead and the world continuing on as per usual? Certainly everything should be falling apart. He felt like he was. Except he knew that President Snow had been suspicious of Mags and when someone was on Snow's radar, death was always a likely scenario, and Finnick had always been holding his breath, knowing her death would come sooner rather than later but hoping against hope it would be later anyway, and Athena looked far too distraught for anything else to be true, and she would never lie to him like this.

Which meant Mags was dead. She was dead. She was dead and her body was being disposed of by some Peacekeepers, the same ones who had put their hands on her, the same monsters who had put that gun to her head. Would Snow keep her death quiet? Or would he parade it about to prove another twisted point? The thought of it made him feel sick, sinking to the ground, staring ahead of him blankly.

Athena kneeled in front of him. He forgot about the cameras broadcasting them to the country, or perhaps he hadn't forgotten but he just stopped caring for a second, and wanted to take her hand, to hold her. Perhaps she'd ground him if he did. Or perhaps they could at least be stuck in this horrible place, hovering in the awful knowledge of Mags’ death together. But he couldn't do it. He couldn't move. It felt like nothing in his body was working the way it was supposed to. He couldn't move, his head was pounding and spinning, his chest felt heavier than led, his stomach was twisting painfully, and even his senses weren't as sharp as the normally were. Everything in him seemed to just snap and stop functioning. Maybe it was only right that that was the case, that everything in him fell apart when Mags died.

 _Mags_... she had been in his life so long, he was struggling to wrap his head around the fact that she was gone. That her life was over. And _now_... he had wanted so badly for her to see the end of all this; that she was born before the Games ever started and would live to see them die. But now she was dead. She had been killed, and so violently, so horrifically... Mags deserved a quick, peaceful, painless death, not _this_... even as Finnick feared for her life after her dinner with Snow, he had not been able to imagine a death as brutal as this. How could even Snow begin to justify something like this?

Finnick felt anger and hatred rise like a tidal wave inside him, momentarily blocking out anything else. He was going to kill Snow. He was going to kill Snow and every Peacekeeper and every last person who allowed this to happen. He was set on it, anger and hatred rushing through him intensely - until, just as quickly as it came, it was snuffed out, replaced by a helpless, all-encompassing grief. What did it matter? What would change, if he did kill them all? Mags was still dead. She was dead, dead, dead, she was gone and she was not coming back. He had not even been there when she died... but what would that have changed? He wouldn't have been able to save her. He would have only been able to watch, and that would have broken him even worse than he was broken now. And at least he had gotten some sort of a goodbye. Still, it tore at him, that he was not there during her last moments...

Mags. The woman who had saved him and so many others. The woman who was always so clever, who saw so much, even if she didn’t say she did. The woman who could trust a rich, powerful man in the Capitol because she could see him for who he really was, could see his real intentions. The woman who could smile so kindly and make anyone feel welcomed. The woman who raised him. His mother, for all intents and purposes. The woman who had been killed. The woman who was dead.

His posture slumped, and he seemed to sink lower into the ground. He wondered if he would sink through the ground and the earth would swallow him whole. He would not mind it, almost craved it. He wanted to go no further. Even if he did want to, he didn't think he could. The pain was unbearable, and there seemed suddenly to be no point of resisting it and not giving into it. Every time he pushed past the pain, tried to move forward, he was met with more, met with something new. What was the use in trying to continue on in a world without Mags, in a world that would allow something so horrific to happen to her? Mags would have been able to find something to say, he knew. But Mags couldn’t say anything to him now, because he was in this arena and she was -

“Finnick.”

Finnick looked up and saw, truly saw, Athena since she had told him about Mags’ death. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed. Her hands were trembling, and the brown eyes that had been staring at him with happiness and love less than twenty-four hours ago was now devoid of any light, and it occurred to him that this was the first time she was allowing herself to truly confront what she had seen. When else would she have been able to do so? After she saw Mags get killed, she was being lifted up to the arena, and then she had to focus so much on fighting, on keeping them safe, on pushing forward. Not for the first time, he was reeling a little from the amount of strength and restraint Athena had. Finnick was typically very sure of his abilities, but he was not sure he could have done it.

“Finnick,” she said again, her voice cracking. She looked at a loss for words. “I - I’m sorry.” He wanted to tell her that she had nothing to be sorry for, but the words wouldn’t come out. He still couldn’t move. Athena took a deep breath, trying to gather and put herself back together. “We - we have to keep it together. We have to remember... we have a job to do. We can’t forget that.”

A job? What job? It took him several moments to remember the mission. The mission that had been the death of Mags. The mission that had put her in danger in the first place. For a split second, it was dangerously tempting to give up on it. But no, it was too important. He knew it was. It was too important and meant too much and Mags had sacrificed too much and they had lost too much to give up without a fight. It took ten times longer to put yourself back together than it did to fall apart. And right now, they didn't have the time. So when Athena stood up and offered a hand to him, he forced the pieces of himself to come back together, forced himself to be whole, and took her hand, allowing her to pull him to her feet. He realized tears had slipped from his eyes, and he wiped them away hastily.

“Right,” he said, and was pleased by how steady his voice was. “Right. Let’s do this, then.”

They wandered back over to the hut and sat back down. Katniss and Peeta had without a doubt heard it all. They said nothing, though. In fact, none of them said anything at all as night fell around them.

Finnick looked down at the gold bangle on his wrist, twisting it idly. This would be worth it. This would mean something. Life would be more forgiving. That was what Mags had said, the last time Finnick had seen her ( _The last time I’ll ever see her,_ Finnick thought, until he banished the thought from his mind), with such confidence in her voice that Finnick found it easy to believe her. Now he wasn’t so sure that would ever be true. His eyes flickered over from Katniss and Peeta to Athena, her face grave. She was only keeping it together because they had a job to do, he knew. They had a job to do. They could not abandon the mission. As long as that was the case, he would make Mags’ words be true.

 

*

 

Athena had expected - or perhaps had hoped - that telling Finnick about Mags’ death would provide her some sort of relief. If anything, though, she felt worse. Somehow, saying out loud to someone else, Finnick especially, made it seem all the more real, which made the grief settle in heavier. Mags was dead. She was dead. She was dead and -

And they had a job to do. That was what she needed to focus on.

Night fell. The tightly woven grass offered some protection from whatever was slinking across the jungle floor after hours, and as darkness fell, a pale white moon rose, making things just visible enough. The sky brightened as the seal of the Capitol appeared as though floating in space, and they all lined up at the mouth of the hut, waiting for what they all knew was coming. Athena and Finnick were close enough that their shoulders brushed each other. It was all the physical contact that they could really have without raising suspicion, but it was enough.

The first of the eight dead victors to appear in the sky was Wyatt. This meant all the tributes from Districts One to Four were still alive; Cashmere, Gloss, Brutus, Enobaria (those four didn't serve as a surprise), Beetee, Wiress (had Johanna and Blight managed to get to them?), and of course, Athena and Finnick. Next was both Cecilia and Woof from District Eight, Harvey Barric and Arya Barley from Nine, Buck Sable and Merona Nox from Ten, and Seeder Whent from Eleven. The Capitol seal returned to the sky with a final bit of music and then the sky went dark except for the moon again.

No one spoke. Athena hadn’t been very close with many of them, but it still hurt to see them up there. She thought of the way Wyatt always used to smile at her, like they were in on some private joke no one else knew about. She remembered the sight of those three kids hanging onto Cecilia at the Reaping before they all but dragged her away from them. Woof was never going to make it, old as he was, but her heart ached a little as she thought of the unfailing loyalty he still showed to Cecilia, wondering if they had been together when it happened... she thought about the humourous ways Harvey tried to charm everyone he met, the easy way Arya would crack jokes, the patience Merona and Buck had shown her when teaching her how to better use a mace, the kindness with which Seeder met everyone. They were all dead now. All gone.

She thought about her first Games. She had barely known most of those people. It had made things a little easier. And as her mind ran through her first Games, she remembered something: the signs. During her first Games, she had started putting up signs, makeshift graves, in honour of the fallen tributes. She wasn’t sure how it hadn’t occurred to her that she would have the opportunity to do it again now. Given the nature of this Quarter Quell, that had been brought about in an attempt to demoralize the districts, to reduce them to nothing but pawns and servants to the Capitol, it seemed more important than ever that she made these signs that honoured them and remembered them as people first and foremost.

She looked around her. She didn’t see anything she could make a sign out of, unless she wanted to cut down trees and do it, which didn’t necessarily seem like a conceivable option, if only because it would make far too much noise. There was another option, though; it wouldn’t be quite the same as making the signs, but it would have to do.

Athena stood up and stepped out of the hut.

“What are you doing?” Finnick whispered.

“I’m not going far,” Athena said. “There’s something I have to do.”

She found a tree that was wide enough for what she wanted to do. She raised her spear and, carefully, she carved the message onto it:

_Wyatt Edison, 32_

_District 5_

_Once you know who you are, nothing anyone does can hurt you._

The quote was something Wyatt had said to her once, three years ago at some grand party in the Capitol they had both been attending. Athena was pretty good at keeping her true emotions hidden now, at acting happy and carefree and delighted at everything even when she wasn't, but somehow Wyatt had seen through her. Once she was finished carving that message onto the tree, she moved onto another one that was wide enough to suit her needs and repeated the process for Cecilia, then Woof, and continued on with each dead tribute until she was writing the following message in memory of Seeder:

_Seeder Whent, 65_

_District 11_

_You’re only ever as weak as you think you are, and as strong as you allow yourself to be._

Now finished, she turned to face Finnick, Katniss, and Peeta. They were all staring at her. Figuring Katniss and Peeta were simply confused, she said, “I did this during my first Games, too. I used to leave signs, but there really isn’t any way to make those here, so - ”

“No, I remember,” Katniss said. She had an odd look on her face. It seemed almost judgemental. “I remember seeing it.”

Athena raised her eyebrows at the expression on her face. “You think it’s stupid of me.”

“No,” Katniss said again, after a moment of thought, and seemed to mean it. “Not at all. I think it’s beautiful.”

“So do I,” Peeta said. “I think it’s important.”

Athena stared at them for a moment, examining them, before nodding once, giving them a faint smile. She would’ve done it with or without their approval, but she was glad they understood. Her gaze wandered over to Finnick, who was looking at her almost quizzically.

She tilted her head as she looked at Finnick. “You weren’t expecting me to do it?”

And to her surprise, he smiled up at her slowly. It was a small smile, but genuine. He shook his head slightly. “No. I expected nothing less from you.”

At that moment, the hovercraft appeared above them. They all stared above them as it dropped the silver parachute, gliding down through the foliage to land before them. None of them reached for it.

“Whose is it, do you think?” said Katniss finally.

“Let’s let Peeta claim it,” said Finnick, “since he’s the one that died today.”

This seemed a fair decision, so Peeta untied the ribbon and flattened out the circle of silk. On the parachute sat a small metal object that Athena couldn’t name.

“What is it?” Katniss asked.

No one knew. They passed it from hand to hand, taking turns examining it carefully. It was a hollow metal tube, tapered slightly at one end. On the other end a small lip curved downward. It looked like a part that could have fallen off a bicycle, a curtain rod, anything, really. It seemed rather useless, but there was no way they would be sent something that was no help at all. Peeta blowed on one end to see if it made a sound. It didn’t. Finnick slid his pinkie into it, testing it out as a weapon. Nothing.

“Can you fish with it, Athena?” Katniss asked her, clearly remembering the fishing tips Athena had provided her.

Athena shook her head helplessly, saying, “I don’t see how I could.”

It had to be valuable in some way. Even lifesaving, perhaps. What would be the point of sending it otherwise? Still, the longer they spent examining the thing, viewing it from different angles, covering portions and then revealing them, the more it seemed to be that way.

Eventually, Katniss jammed one end into the dirt and said, “I give up. Maybe if we hook up with Beetee or Wiress they can figure it out.”

Athena and Finnick glanced at each other at that. They said nothing. Athena stretched out on her grass mat, while Finnick was lying on one at her feet, their mats making a sort of ‘L’ shape. She stared up at the sky above. She wondered why this place hadn’t cooled off in the slightest despite the sun going down. She wondered what was happening back home.

Calypso. Her mother. Annie. Roman. Casper. Hudson. All the ones she cared for most, watching this from home. She hoped with all she had that they were at home, anyway. Not taken into custody. Not being punished the way Mags had been punished. Especially not the way Mags had been punished.

Her hand traveled up to her necklace, fingers around the blue spinel. She ached for them, for her district, her home. The moderate temperatures, the cool breezes, wildlife that she recognized and weren’t so creepy, no dense, mysterious jungles. Enobaria, while she was taunting her, had said the arena must have been made just for her and Finnick, but it really only seemed that that could be said about the center of the arena, with its beach and its seawater. She would feel much better there, certainly, but she knew it was out of the question for now. The Career pack was likely still there. They would have been able to take them, Athena was sure, but Peeta still needed rest and they were all still dehydrated.

“A spile!” Katniss suddenly exclaimed, bolting upright.

“What?” said Finnick.

Katniss wrestled the thing from the ground and brushed it clean. She cupped her hand around the tapered end, concealing it, and looked at the lip. The action seemed to provide her the confirmation she needed, but Athena was still lost.

“It’s a spile. Sort of like a faucet. You put it in a tree and sap comes out,” Katniss explained, then looked around at the sinewy green trunks. “Well, the right sort of tree.”

“Sap?” Finnick asked, and she was glad to see he was just as confused as her. There wasn’t really much woodland in District Four, and there certainly weren’t any trees that had sap inside of them.

“To make syrup,” Peeta said. “But there must be something else inside these trees.”

They were all on their feet immediately. Their thirst. The lack of springs. The tree rat’s sharp front teeth and wet muzzle. They all knew that there could only be one thing worth having inside those trees. Finnick went to hammer the spile into the green bark of a massive tree with a rock, but Katniss stopped him.

“Wait. You might damage it. We need to drill a hole first.”

There was nothing to drill with, but Katniss did have an awl, which Peeta drove straight into the bark, burying the spike two inches deep. They all took turns opening up the hole with the awl and knives until it could hold the spile. Katniss wedged it in carefully and they all stood back in anticipation.

At first, nothing happened. Then, a drop of water rolled down the lip and landed in Athena’s palm. They all went half mad with excitement. By wiggling and adjusting the spile, they could get a thin stream running out. The relief between them palpable, they took turns holding their mouths under the tap, wetting their parched tongues. Finnick brought over a basket, and the grass was so tightly woven it held the water. They filled the basket and passed it around, taking deep gulps and, later, luxuriously, splashing out faces clean. Like everything in this arena, it seemed, the water was on the warm side, but this was hardly the time to be picky.

Without their thirst to distract them, they all became aware of how exhausted they were and began to make preparations for the night. During her first Games, Athena tried to always have her gear ready in case she needed to make a quick getaway in the night. This year, there really wasn’t anything to have ready. Just her weapons, which wouldn’t leave her grasp or her belt anyway. Katniss wrestled the spile from the tree trunk, stripped a tough vine of its leaves, thread the leave through the hollow center of the spile, and tied it securely to her belt. Athena felt better knowing they wouldn’t lose it.

Finnick offered to take first watch, and she, Katniss, and Peeta all let him. Katniss lied down beside Peeta and told Finnick to wake her when he was tired before Athena got the chance, but she let her. Athena had a feeling Katniss was rid of any desire to kill her or Finnick, at least for tonight.

“Don’t stay up too long,” Athena murmured to him. “You need rest.”

He nodded, but Athena wasn’t sure he’d listen to her advice. Athena herself had trouble listening to her advice. Even as she laid on the grass mat with her eyes closed, sleep would not come to her. There was too much on her mind, weighing her down. Still, she needed to sleep. She hadn’t slept much last night(admittedly, most of that was by choice, and not her worst choice overall), but it was starting to catch up to her, and the events of the day, especially watching Mags die, had left her drained. She would be no help with the mission, with protecting the group, if she was off her game from exhaustion. She shut her eyes tighter, kept a firm grip on one of her spears, and willed rest to come to her.

 

*

 

Finnick had only been on watch for a few hours when the sound of a bell tolling sounded across the arena. It wasn’t quite like the bell they rang at the Justice Building on New Year’s, but something close enough to it for him to recognize it. Peeta slept through it, but Athena and Katniss both jolted awake, bolting upright, already raising their weapons until they realized what the noise was, looking as attentive as he felt. Soon, the tolling stopped.

“I counted twelve,” he said.

“Me too,” said Athena, and Katniss nodded.

He thought about what it might meant. Twelve. What did it signify? They wouldn’t do it for no reason. Midnight, maybe? Or the number of districts. But why?

“Mean anything, do you think?” Katniss asked.

“No idea,” said Finnick.

Athena looked as clueless as they were. They waited for further instructions, maybe a message from Claudius Templesmith. An invitation to a feast. The only noteworthy thing appeared in the distance; there was a dazzling bolt of electricity that struck a towering tree, and then a lightning storm began. Finnick supposed it was an indication of rain, of a water source for those who hadn’t been sent any spiles. It seemed to be spreading. It would likely reach them before long. He didn’t mind it; he’d always liked the rain, and he certainly wasn’t going to complain about more drinkable water.

Eventually, when nothing else happened, Athena glanced over at Finnick for a split second, then Katniss, then laid back on her grass mat and closed her eyes, still gripping onto her spear. Katniss remained upright. They were both quiet for a long time, tense, until she broke the silence.

“I’m sorry,” she said, quite suddenly. She paused for a second, but before he could ask her what she was supposed to be apologizing for, she said, “About Mags. She was your mentor, right?”

Finnick, who had immediately tensed up even more at the mention of Mags, nodded slowly. Mags had been much more than her mentor, but he wasn’t going to tell her that. This was not a door he was going to open with Katniss Everdeen. He barely knew her. And she barely knew him. It was better for everyone that it stayed that way.

“She was old,” he said finally, trying very hard to make himself sound detached. “She was going to die soon anyway. Just... not like that.”

She studied him closely for a moment, before she merely nodded and looked away. She looked like she was debating on saying something, before she looked over and said, “The same thing happened to my stylist.”

“Cinna?” Finnick said, frowning. “He’s dead?”

She seemed to close in on herself, almost flinching at the mere suggestion. “I don’t know. Maybe,” But from the look on her face, she seemed to know it was likely. “They came in right before they sent me up. Beat him until he was passed out and then dragged him away. It must’ve happened at the same time they killed Mags.”

Finnick knew what she was implying by that, even though she wasn’t stupid enough to say it out loud. That perhaps their deaths were connected. Finnick was doubtful, though. Cinna was doubtlessly in trouble with Snow for the twist with the wedding dress; clearly, the significance of turning Katniss into a mockingjay on live television, the message that would send to the districts, was not lost on Snow. Even though he didn’t know for sure the exact reasons Snow had decided to target and kill Mags (though he had his theories), it was obvious that it was related to the mission. Finnick didn’t know how much Cinna would have known about the mission, if he did at all. Finnick suspected that the only thing that connected Mags and Cinna was that they had both managed to piss off President Snow.

“Go to sleep, Finnick,” Katniss said finally. “It’s my turn to watch, anyway.”

He hesitated. He didn't much like the idea of Katniss awake with that bow while he and Athena were both asleep and unguarded. Katniss seemed alright with them for now, but she had had every intention of shooting them both only hours ago. He was exhausted, though, and he couldn't stay awake forever. And if he wanted to protect Athena, Katniss, and Peeta, then he couldn't be off his game. Besides, Athena had made a good point; by saving Peeta’s life, he had made himself valuable enough that Katniss probably wouldn’t feel very urged to kill either of them again for some time.

Finally, he gave in, moving to his mat by Athena. He had expected her to be asleep, but her eyes were open, following him as he stretched out on the mat. She simply looked at him for a moment, before shifting her mat slightly and switching herself around so that her head was by his.

The closer proximity to her was nice, but he was frowning at her. “Have you been awake this entire time?”

She shook her head. “I slept for a little while, but I keep waking up. I'm not exactly at my most relaxed right now.”

He nodded in understanding. He signed to her, “Did you hear what she said about her stylist?”

She nodded. “Doubt they are related, though. He might have known about the plan, but... think Snow was just punishing them separately for their own rebellious - or seemingly rebellious - actions.”

He nodded in agreement. “I thought so too.”

They were silent for a time, not saying or signing anything for a while. He knew they were both thinking about her, but they didn’t talk about Mags. Finnick didn’t think he could stand it, not even with Athena, not yet. This arena, the bell tolls, the lightning storm, still had him on edge. He looked over at where it was. It seemed to be inching closer slowly. Finally, Athena, who had also been watching the distant rain, spoke.

“This arena makes no damn sense,” she murmured, her eyes fluttering closed

He breathed out a laugh. “Do they ever?”

“No,” she conceded with a small smile, “but this is an elaborate kind of nonsense.”

He laughed again, struggling to stifle it. His eyes ran across every bit of the arena he could see, before he finally decided to follow Athena’s lead and close his eyes. Keeping his hand gripped around a trident, he willed himself to sleep.

He hadn’t been asleep long when he was jolted awake by the sound of a cannon. His eyes scanned the camp quickly. Athena, Katniss, and Peeta were all still alive and there weren’t any nearby threats. The death was someone else. Somewhere else. Peeta was still asleep, Katniss was still watching, a little startled by the sound of the cannon and still on high alert. Athena had been woken by the sound of the cannon as well, it seemed, and was staring up at the night sky, as though she might find out who it was that died if she gazed at the moon long enough.

Eventually, her eyes landed on him. She raised her eyebrows just slightly, her expression grim, asking a silent question. Who did he think it was?

“No idea,” he signed. “No point wondering. We’ll find out soon enough.” She still looked distracted. “Go to sleep. You need rest more than anything else.”

She hesitated a moment longer, but couldn’t deny that he was right. She nodded, shifted slightly in place, tightened her grip on her spear, and closed her eyes again. Finnick watched her out of the corner of his eye until it seemed like she had finally slipped into an albeit fitful rest, before closing his own eyes. He strained his ears for any noises, but when he could not sleep, began imagining the ocean. The way it sounded on the docks, on the beach, when he was sailing on _The Morning Light_ , in the cave with Athena... eventually, he felt himself drift off into a restless sleep.


	19. XVIII

**XVIII**

 

Athena couldn’t have been asleep for much longer than an hour when she was woken up by the sounds of shouting.

“Run!” screamed Katniss’ voice. “Run!”

Instantly awake and alert, Athena jumped to her feet, her spear at the ready, at the same time that Finnick did the same with his trident. They were ready to counter an enemy, but an enemy was not what they found. A fog was approaching them, with tendrils reaching forward and curling like fingers. At first, it simply looked like the fog that followed heavy rain, but it looked much too thick, a sickeningly sweet odor to it. Athena looked over and saw that Katniss had blisters, painful-looking pustules forming on her hand, the place where she must have reached to touch the fog. Whatever the fog was, whatever gas it was made out of, it was poisonous. It was dangerous. And it certainly wasn’t natural, something the Gamemakers had set off.

Finnick seemed to come to this conclusion at the same time as her, because he grabbed onto her hand and yanked her along with him as they took off through the jungle. Athena took a few moments to regain her balance so that she could run alongside him on her own, sprinting as fast as she could away from whatever that fog was. After the initial shock and bewilderment faded, she looked around and stopped dead at the realization that Katniss and Peeta were nowhere to be found.

“Katniss and Peeta,” she said, when Finnick stared at her in confusion at her sudden stop. “Peeta’s still weak, Katniss must be staying behind with him. He’s probably slowing them down.”

He understood at once. They looked behind them and found that, sure enough, some distance away, Katniss and Peeta were struggling along through the trees. It was clear that, as much as he denied it during the day, the after effects of hitting the force field were significant. He was slower, much slower than he had been before. Katniss had one of Peeta’s arms wrapped around her shoulders and was supporting him along, the two of them tripping at nearly every step as they walked ahead as carefully as they could. The fog was moving ahead slowly, but so were Katniss and Peeta, and the gas was right at their heels.

“I’ll go help,” Athena said, and before Finnick could protest, added, “if I help support Peeta, they can move faster. You stay ahead of us and guide us.”

And knowing that this was not the time for arguments, she freed herself from Finnick’s grasp and sprinted to meet Katniss and Peeta. She went to Peeta’s other side, wrapping his free arm around her shoulders and shifting half of his weight from Katniss to herself. Katniss shot her a grateful look over Peeta’s shoulder. As Athena moved into position, droplets sprung free of the body of vapour and landed on her. She cried out immediately at the searing pain. It felt like tiny stabs, burning, but not in the way that fire did. Less of a sense of heat and more of intense pain as the chemicals found her flesh, clung to it, and burrowed down through the layers of skin to blister. Her jumpsuit was no help at all; she might as well have been wearing tissue paper, for all the protection it provided. The pain was so intense that she nearly stopped dead in her tracks, and only barely managed to push through it and keep moving.

As she expected, now that Katniss wasn’t bearing all of Peeta’s weight on her own, they could move a little faster. Not fast enough to be out of range of the fog, but enough that they weren’t threatened to be overtaken by it. Finnick remained ahead of them, trying to move them along, shouting encouragements, and the sound of his voice acted as a good enough guide to keep them moving.

Peeta’s artificial leg got caught in a knot of creepers and he sprawled forward, and Athena and Katniss just barely managed to catch him before he planted face first onto the earth. As they straightened him up again, they noticed something much more frightened than blisters, more debilitating than the burns. The left side of his face had sagged, as if every muscle in it was dead. The lid drooped, almost concealing his eye. His mouth twisted in an odd angle towards the ground. Athena and Katniss exchanged terrified looks.

“Peeta - ” Katniss began.

And at that moment, her arm spasmed violently. Almost immediately after, Athena’s leg spasmed, kicking outwards involuntarily. Whatever chemical that was laced in the fog did more than burn; it targeted their nerves. A whole new fear coursed through Athena, and she and Katniss tried to hurry forward, yanking Peeta with them, but that only made him stumble again. By the time they got him on his feet again, both of Katniss’ arm were twitching uncontrollably, making it much harder for her to support Peeta. Athena gritted her teeth through the burning pain and shifted Peeta’s weight so that nearly all of it was on her. Her arms and her legs were twitching, but they were small twitches for now, bearable, for the most part. The fog had moved in on them, the body of it less than a yard away. The fog had taken effect on Peeta’s legs; he was trying to walk, but they moved in a spastic, puppet-like fashion.

Finnick appeared in front of them, pulled Katniss away from Peeta roughly, and took her place, placing Peeta’s arm around his shoulders. He shifted a great deal of Peeta's weight off of her and onto himself. Katniss, her muscles still twitching uncontrollably, ran ahead and kept shouting out to them to guide them, taking Finnick's place. Athena fought to keep up with Finnick's rapid pace despite her spasming muscles.

They'd put about ten yards between them and the fog before they had to stop again, Peeta's legs twitching too much to keep him moving along.

“It's no good,” said Finnick. “I'll have to carry him.”

She saw quickly that that was their best option. He'd have an easier time carrying his weight, especially since, though the fog had touched him and was bringing about searing blisters and burns in its wake, it hadn't affected his muscles yet. She nodded, stepped aside, and allowed him to sling Peeta across his back.

Katniss’ arm was spasming too much to be of much use, so Athena led the way, putting away her spear, taking out two of her knives, and using them to slash through the vines that stood in their way. Finnick followed after her, and Katniss brought up the rear. On the fog came, silent and steady and flat, save for the tendrils that grasped at them. At first, out of instinct, Athena ran straight ahead, directly away from the fog, until she found a better solution and ran at a diagonal, towards the wheel and the Cornucopia. Towards the water. The water would protect them from the fog. The Career pack could still be there, but Athena didn't care. The fog was a bigger threat to them than the Careers. They would have to take the risk.

The spasming in her muscles had been bad but bearable, but it was getting worse with each passing second. She was dragging her legs along to keep them moving, and her muscles were twitching so violently that several times, she came dangerously close to slashing at herself when she tried to cut the vines ahead of them. The pain from the blisters and burns made it no easier. Finnick was struggling but managing to carry himself and Peeta along, but Katniss was faring even worse than the two of them. Her legs seemed to have gone stiff, and she kept crashing to the ground. The first two times, she managed to pick herself back up, but the third time, she stayed down.

Athena and Finnick turned around and were by her side in seconds, ignoring the searing pain as the fog drew closer to them. To her credit, Katniss was fighting as hard as she could to get back up again, but she couldn't do it. She flailed around helplessly, trying to use vines and trunks to right herself, but it was no use. Her legs wouldn't cooperate. Finnick turned to look at Athena; despite the darkness of the night, she could see the green of his eyes clear as day.

“I can't carry both of them,” he told her, the look on his face almost apologetic. “My arms aren’t working.”

And it was true; his arms were jerking uncontrollably at his sides. He had been smart enough to stow away his trident in his belt with the other two he had taken, his hands otherwise empty. There was no way he would be able to take Katniss as well, but Athena hadn’t been insane enough to think he could.

She moved swiftly, stuffing one of her knives back in her belt and squatting down before Katniss, murmuring, “Come on, Katniss.”

Katniss understood at once, gripping onto Athena’s shoulders and wrapped her legs around her back, the way Athena would carry around Mags and Calypso sometimes and Finnick would carry a good many people to make them laugh. Katniss really wasn’t very heavy, and under normal circumstances Athena would be able to carry her with ease, but with the pain she felt and her muscles not behaving the way they were supposed to, it took a great deal of effort to lift herself back up with Katniss’ weight on her back.

Since Athena was the only one left with semi-functional arms, she took the lead again. Katniss’ limbs were too weak to hold onto Athena tightly enough, so Athena had to run with her back bent at a slight crouch with one hand holding her up to keep Katniss from falling right off. Katniss arm’s were still convulsing, which meant Athena often had to use her free hand to keep Katniss from hitting her in the face or getting in the way of her knife. She knew Katniss was trying to control it, she kept mumbling something that Athena was pretty sure was meant to be an apology, but she couldn’t help it. She had simply lost complete control of her arms.

It wasn’t Katniss’ fault that Athena was getting weaker and weaker, moving slower and slower, not really. Athena knew Katniss was trying her absolute best to be an easy passenger for her, but the pain was getting worse and worse, she had less control in her arms and legs than ever, and it was harder to cut away the vines that were in their path when she had Katniss’ spasming arms to worry about. She ended up tripping on a tree root and they both went crashing to the ground. Finnick nearly tripped over her as he rushed by her side, Peeta still slung over his back.

“Athena,” he said, desperate. He tried to reach out to her, but his hands gave a violent spasm and he moved them away hastily before he could hit her. “Athena, we need to go.”

“I know,” she said, tears springing in her eyes from the pain of it, trying and failing to lift herself up again. “I know.”

She felt hopeless. She felt half dead already. Her muscles were dying, she was pretty sure. She was trying to figure out if there was some way she could still at least save Finnick, Katniss, and Peeta, but the fog seemed to be affecting her mind, too, because her thoughts were all muddled. She considered sacrificing herself, throwing herself to the fog so the Gamemakers and the Capitol would have the show they wanted, but Katniss still couldn’t walk, and Finnick couldn’t carry her and Peeta. They’d be in an even worse position without her, but she didn’t know what else to do. Suddenly, someone else appeared a little ways’ away, seemingly out of nowhere. Her brain was so foggy that it took her a much longer than it normally would’ve to recognize him as Apollo Byke from District Six, one of the morphlings. For a moment, Apollo simply stared at the four of them with his overlarge eyes. Then, something like understanding came upon his face, and he began walking with a purpose directly towards the fog.

Athena frowned at the scene. It made no sense. What was he doing? Katniss, from over her shoulder, asked the same thing, slurring her words so much that Athena almost couldn’t make them out. Athena tried to lift herself up to stop him, but she was still struggling to get up. She tried yelling at him to stop, but it just came out as unintelligible noise. Apollo had walked into the fog by now. She could view only his almost skeletal silhouette now. Apollo was seized immediately by wild contortions and he fell to the ground in a horrible, horrible dance. Athena tried to scream, but her throat was on fire and no sound came out. She tried to take a futile step towards him, and found she was able to lift herself up a little, but the cannon sounded before she could move any further, and at last her sluggish mind managed to put together what had happened.

Apollo Byke was from District Six. the tributes from District Six were in on the mission to a certain degree. They might not know everything, but they did know that when it came down to it, they were to sacrifice themselves for Katniss and Peeta. Apollo had seen them, helpless as they were, and did what needed to be done for the sake of the mission. For the sake of the revolution.

Since the Gamemakers had gotten the death they wanted, it probably would not be long until the fog was gone, but for now it was still there, which meant they still needed to get away and fast. She looked over at Finnick. He seemed to be getting weaker by the second. They needed to get to safety before they lost all their strength.

“Right,” she croaked. “Right. Let’s go.”

She gripped onto a tree trunk to steady herself and all but climbed back onto her feet, still clutching onto Katniss. She raised her knife and recommenced the trek away from the fog, slashing at the vines in front of her. Finnick staggered along behind her. Time and space lost meaning as the fog seemed to invade her brain, muddling her thoughts, making everything unreal. Instinct alone was what kept Athena moving forward. It seemed she was actually feeling herself die slowly, muscle by muscle. She didn’t think, because everything stopped making sense. Or because her brain simply stopped working. One of the two. Instinct drove her forward. Instinct and the sight of the water in the distance.

Behind her, Finnick collapsed, and as he fell, he knocked into her legs, which sent her crashing to the ground too. There was something on the ground when she landed - something jagged, maybe a rock - that pressed against one of the larger blisters on her face, and the pain was so excruciating that she blacked out. She came to again what could have been seconds or minutes or even hours or days later. She felt lighter, and she realized a moment later that it was because Katniss had rolled off of her, now sprawled out and convulsing beside her.

Certain that they were all going to die like this and all that had been done and sacrificed and lost had been for nothing, Athena rolled over onto her back to keep an eye on the fog, which had taken on a pearly white quality. Maybe it was her eyes playing tricks on her, or it was from the light of the moon, but the fog was transforming. Yes, it was, it was becoming thicker, as though it had run into an invisible wall and was being forced to condense. She squinted and saw that the tendrils were no longer protruding from the main body of vapour. In fact, the fog wasn't moving at all anymore. It seemed that it had reached the end of its territory. Either that or the Gamemakers were satisfied with the sacrifice Apollo Byke had made and were no longer going to try and kill them.

 _Thanks, Plutarch,_ Athena thought numbly, in some part of her mind.

“It stopped,” she tried to get out, but the only thing that left her swollen mouth was an unintelligible croaking sound. “It stopped.”

She had to have been clearer that time, because Finnick, Katniss, and Peeta all turned their heads towards the fog. It began to rise upwards now, as if being sucked up by a vacuum. Athena tilted her head back against the damp earth and watched the fog until it had been sucked away and not even the slightest wisp remained.

Peeta rolled off of Finnick, who turned onto his back. They lied there, gasping and twitching, their minds and bodies invaded by the poison of the fog. After a few minutes passed, Peeta gestured vaguely upwards.

“Mon-hees.”

She looked up and spotted a pair of what she guessed were monkeys. She had never seen a monkey in real life, as they didn't reside in District Four, but she had seen enough pictures or perhaps witnessed them in another arena that when she saw them the same word came to mind instantly. They had orange fur, though it was sort of hard to tell, and they were about half the size of a full-grown human. She hadn't known that monkeys were so big. They had always seemed smaller in the photos, but it was also likely that the effects of the fog were making her misremember. She frowned - or perhaps, she would have been frowning if her face worked properly. Something about these monkeys seemed wrong to her, but her mind was still too cloudy to place a finger on it. The fog might have been gone, but the effects of it were far from fading.

She was pretty sure the monkeys were a good sign, though. Surely they wouldn't be hanging around if the air was still poisonous. They all quietly observed each other for a while, humans and monkeys. Athena tried to push away the bad feeling settling into the pit of her stomach. The monkeys were making no move towards them, despite clearly being vulnerable. And even if there was something off about them, there was nothing anything of them could do about it while they were in this state.

The thought reminded her that they still needed to do something about their injuries. Athena turned her head in the direction of the Cornucopia. The water... they needed to get to the water... perhaps the water would help...

“Come on,” she said in a strained voice. “Come on...”

She found her knife about a foot away, grabbed it, and stowed it away in her belt. Walking seemed about as impossible to her as flying just then, so she simply got on her knees and crawled, all but dragging herself in the direction of the wheel. Finnick, Katniss, and Peeta followed suit, and they all crawled until the vines turned into a narrow strip of sandy beach and the warm water that surrounded the Cornucopia lapped at their faces. Athena generally had very good experiences with water, especially seawater, and she had expected the water to be their salvation, but when it touched her face, she jerked back as though she'd been burnt by an open flame.

Rubbing salt in a wound. For the first time, Athena truly appreciated the meaning of this expression, because the pain of the salt in the water in her wounds was so blinding that she nearly blacked out again. But there was another feeling that came with it, one of drawing out. Athena hesitated, before placing a hand gingerly in the water. It was torturous, and Athena clutched onto a fistful of the sand and gritted her teeth to muffle her cries of pain, but as time went on, the pain lessened. Through the blue layer of water, she saw a milky substance leaching out the wounds on her skin. As the whiteness diminished, the pain did too. The relief was almost dizzying.

Athena forced herself to straighten up, unbuckling her belt and stripping off her jumpsuit. Her shoes and undergarments were somehow unaffected, and she was a little irritated but ultimately unsurprised by what the Gamemakers thought was important to protect. Little by little, one small portion of a limb at a time, she soaked the poison out of her wounds. Katniss and Peeta had been watching her and hastened to follow suit. Finnick, however, had backed away after the first contact with the water and remained lying down, either unable to or unwilling to purge himself. She suspected it was mainly the former with a dose of the latter.

She crawled over to him to turn him carefully onto his back, mainly because the sight of him lying face down on the sand was more than a little worrying, but she was still too weak to fix him.

“I'll come back for you.”

Finnick groaned and made a head motion that was probably supposed to be a nod. It would have to do. She made her way back to the water. Slowly, carefully, she worked on healing her wounds with the saltwater, careful not to submerge too much of herself in the water at a time or the pain would be unbearable. Finally, when she had survived the worst by submerging her full body underwater, opening her eyes underwater, sniffing water into her sinuses and snorting it out, and even gargling it repeatedly to wash out her throat, she decided she was stable enough to help Finnick.

She had gained most of the feeling back in her muscles, but she was still a little stiff and the spasms in her limbs hadn't worn off. She couldn't quite drag Finnick into the water, and there was a possibility the pain would kill him anyway. Instead, she scooped up shaky handfuls of water and emptied them on his wrists. He hissed in pain, but then let out a relieved sigh. Since he wasn't underwater, the poison came out the same way it came in; in wisps of fog that she took great care to avoid.

“Can I take off your jumpsuit? I need to reach the rest of your wounds.”

He made the same head motion that probably would've been a nod any other time. The fog’s effect on him seemed to be so heavy that it was likely that he barely understood what she was saying, but it felt important to ask anyway. She and Finnick seemed to have gotten the worst of the fog, which was not that surprising given that they had had to exert themselves the most. Finnick was even worse off than she was, which she supposed was because he was the biggest and there was just simply more _of_ him.

After she unzipped and carefully pulled Finnick's jumpsuit off of him, she focused on soaking his arms next, since they had been so badly damaged. A little ways off, she found a bunch of large white seashells that could carry much more water than her hands could. Athena picked two of them up. There were other seashells among them, including a bunch of bright blue ones. This was significant, she knew, for some reason, but her mind was still too foggy for her to remember why. She'd figure it out later, hopefully, if she got the chance. When the effects of the fog left her brain completely. She stumbled back to the water, filled the seashells with water, returned to Finnick, and went back to work.

When they were stable enough, Katniss and Peeta began to help her, which surprised her a little, but she didn't refuse the help. They grabbed seashells of their own, filled them with water, and finished healing his arms slowly. So much of the white substance poured out of Finnick's wounds, but he didn't seem to notice. He just lied there, eyes shut, giving an occasional groan.

The sound of Finnick moaning in the otherwise silent area made Athena realize for the first time how dangerous of a position they were in. They were at the center of the arena, by the Cornucopia, which was almost always the most dangerous place to be during the Games. It might have been night, but the moon was too bright to provide any opportunities for concealment. It was more out of luck than anything else that they hadn't been attacked yet. They would be able to see any threats coming from the Cornucopia, giving them at least some warning, but they were all too weak to fight. If the Career pack came, they would be dead in minutes. Maybe seconds. If they didn't spot them at first, Finnick's moans would probably give them away before long.

Katniss, who was evidently thinking along the same lines as her, whispered, “We've got to get more of him into the water.”

But they couldn't exactly drag him in face first, not while he was in this condition. Athena spent a moment debating how strong she was, before she made up her mind. She moved to grab one of his ankles and began to pull as him gently as she could towards the saltwater.

“Come on,” she said softly. “Come on, Finnick.”

To her relief, she found that she was strong enough to pull him along, but she was still glad for the help Peeta provided by taking his other ankle and pulling him too. Little by little, they brought Finnick into the seawater. Just a few inches at a time. His ankles. Wait, let him adjust, let him trust it. Then up to his midcalf. Wait a few more minutes. His knees. Clouds of white swirled out of his wounds and he groaned. They continued to detoxify him, bit by bit. The longer she sat in the water, the better she felt. Not only were her wounds healing, but her head felt clearer and she was getting much better control over her muscles. Katniss also seemed to be getting stronger, and the muscles in Peeta's face were returning to normal, his eyelid opening, the grimace leaving his mouth.

Finnick slowly began to revive. His eyes opened, focused on them, and seemed to truly realize that he was being helped. Athena rested his head on her lap and they let him soak for about ten minutes, everything from the neck down submerged. Almost instinctively, Athena made to run a hand through his hair idly, until she realized what she was doing and where she was and stopped. Katniss and Peeta gave her an odd look, but said nothing on it. They forgot it when Finnick lifted his arms above seawater, though, Athena, Katniss, and Peeta all exchanging smiles.

“There's just your head left, Finnick,” said Peeta. “That's the worst part, but you'll feel much better after, if you can bear it.”

They helped him sit up and let him grip onto their hands as he purged his eyes and nose and mouth. His throat was still too raw to speak.

“I'm going to tap a tree,” said Katniss, her fingers fumbling at her belt to find the spile still hanging from the vine.

“Let me make the hole first,” Peeta said. “You should stay here. You're the healer.”

Judging by the look on Katniss’ face, Athena was pretty sure that was a joke, but she said nothing on it. For a moment, Athena, Finnick, and Katniss were all quiet.

“That morphling,” Katniss said suddenly. “He just... he just walked right into the fog. Why would he do that? He must have known it was dangerous.”

Athena and Finnick exchanged quick glances. Katniss and Peeta were to know nothing of the mission, and it wasn’t like they could explain the rebel plan they were apart of _now_ , in the arena with cameras broadcasting them across the country.

Finnick gave a shrug, a good sign of him gaining back control of his muscles, and Athena said, “I don’t know.”

Katniss was frowning, looking troubled. After studying them briefly, she pursued the topic no further. Athena guessed it had to do with the haggard look on Finnick’s face and the fact that she herself probably looked no better.

When Athena was certain that Finnick was in a good position and only getting stronger, she stood up and walked towards the place she’d stripped off her jumpsuit. Though it had provided her no protection, it was somehow in decent shape, so she pulled it back on. She tucked a few loose strands of soaking wet hair behind her ear, before wading out into the water again. Katniss soon got up, too, retreating to the sand to collect herself.

“I think they think you’re too nice to me,” said Finnick. His voice was hoarse and weak, but at least he could talk again. It took Athena a second to realize he was talking about the odd look Katniss and Peeta had given her when she played with his hair. “Anyone genuinely liking me is probably a foreign concept to them.”

She raised her eyebrows at that. “Maybe I should leave you behind next time.”

Finnick managed a smirk, and Athena knew he really was healing. “You'd never.”

Athena said nothing to that, because they both knew it was true.

She was now fairly certain that the Careers weren’t anywhere nearby. They might be in the jungle, hunting for hidden tributes. Either way, they had been here for some time now, they hadn’t been quiet, and they were all vulnerable. If the Careers were going to come for them, they would have done it by now. She looked behind her. Katniss was fixing herself up. Peeta, who had paused only to put his jumpsuit back on, had found a good tree about ten yards from the narrow strip of beach, and though she could barely see him, she could hear the sound of his knife against the tree trunk crystal clear. Both safe, at least for now.

Letting herself enjoy the absence of an immediate threat and her healed body, she leaned back and let the waves lap at her body. She breathed out an almost contented sigh. The water had not only healed her, but transformed her altogether. She felt much better, in her element. The jungle was one thing, but the beach and the seawater? This was her territory.

Finnick seemed to feel the same way. He began to move slowly, just testing his limbs, and gradually began to swim. He dived and resurfaced, spraying water out of his mouth, rolled over and over as he corkscrew swam through the water, and stayed underwater to see how long he could hold his breath. She smiled a little as she watched him - then let out a gasp as something grabbed her ankle and pulled her underwater.

She soon realized it was Finnick, air bubbles escaping from his mouth as he laughed at the look on her face. She rolled her eyes and shoved him. This, as she had sort of expected, led to several long moments of wrestling underwater, which didn’t end until Finnick pushed her down further into the depths of the water, Athena grabbed his ankle and sent him rolling away without control, and they both called a truce. She swam about leisurely, until Finnick grabbed her arm and pointed at Katniss, who had returned to the water and was evidently trying to figure out where they had gone. Finnick gave her a significant look, and she knew at once what he was asking. They swam up until they were on either side of her, and then resurfaced suddenly right beside her. She gave a start.

“Don’t do that,” Katniss said.

“What?” said Finnick. “Stay under or come up?”

"Either. Neither. Whatever. Just soak in the water and behave,” said Katniss. “Or if you feel this good, let’s go help Peeta.”

They waded back out of the water. Finnick pulled his jumpsuit back on, while Athena buckled her belt back up. She didn’t need it as a floatation device, but Brutus had blocked Katniss’ arrow with his, so she supposed the protection couldn’t hurt. Besides, it provided a place to store the weapons she couldn’t carry. She took out one of her spears, and followed Finnick and Katniss to where Peeta still stood.

They crossed the beach to the edge of the jungle in short time. Katniss stopped abruptly, grabbing Athena and Finnick to stop them. They followed her gaze upward, and then she saw them. How did so many of them arrive so silently? Maybe they didn’t. They’d all been so focused on restoring their bodies. Athena cursed her own inattentiveness. During that time they had assembled. Not five or ten but scores of monkeys weighing down the limbs of the jungle trees. The pair they spotted when they first escaped the fog felt like a welcoming committee. This felt ominous. There was something off about them, but she couldn’t place her finger on what exactly it was.

Katniss armed her bow with two arrows, Finnick adjusted the trident in his hand, and Athena raised her spear just slightly; a defensive position, but more than ready to turn into an offensive one if necessary.

“Peeta,” said Katniss, in a voice of forced calm. “I need your help with something.”

“Okay, just a minute. I think I’ve just about got it,” he said, still occupied with the tree. “Yes, there. Do you have the spile?”

“I do. But we found something you’d better take a look at,” Katniss replied in a measured voice. “Only move toward us quietly, so you don’t startle it.”

For some reason, Athena didn’t want Peeta to notice the monkeys or glance their way. There were some creatures that interpreted mere eye contact as a form of aggression. Peeta turned to them, panting from his work on the tree. Katniss’ tone and the nature of her request was so odd that it clearly alerted him to some irregularity.

“Okay,” he said casually.

He began to move through the jungle. Athena could tell he was trying hard to be quiet, but it clearly was not his strong suit. But he was moving, and the monkeys were holding their positions. He was a mere five yards from the beach when he sensed them. His eyes darted up for only a second, but it was as if he had triggered a bomb. The monkeys exploded into a shrieking mass of orange fur and converged on him.

Athena had never seen any animal move that fast. They slid down the vines as if the things were greased. They leapt impossible distances from tree to tree. Their fangs were bared, their hackles raised, their claws shooting out like switchblades. Athena was unfamiliar with monkeys, but no animal in nature acted like this. Finally, she could put a name to what was off about them.

“Mutts,” she hissed, as she, Finnick, and Katniss crashed into the greenery.

There were so many of the monkeys that they had to make every hit count, and there was nothing for it but to aim to kill. Athena and Finnick both speared the beasts like fish and flung them aside, Katniss brought down monkey after monkey with her bow and arrow, and Peeta was slashing away with his knife. They tried to position themselves in a sort of square, a few yards apart, their backs to each other, but there were so many of them coming at them from so many angles that it was easy to fall out of position.

One of them began clawing at Katniss’ leg and down her back, before Athena ran it through with her spear and flung it aside. While she was distracted, another monkey came at her and tackled her to the ground, sending her spear out of her hand and slamming her against a tree, the weight of it surprising her. She held up an arm to keep the monkey from clawing at her face, and she winced in pain as the monkey sunk its claws into her arm. Thinking fast, she used her free hand to take out one of her knives and jammed it to the hilt in the monkey’s neck. She removed the knife and shoved the now dead animal off of her.

No sooner had she pushed the monkey off her did she see another one jumping right at her. Before Athena could make her next move, though, the monkey had been run through from behind with a trident, the three points sticking through its chest. The monkey dropped to the floor, now lifeless. Finnick appeared in front of her then, removing the trident from the monkey’s body and looking at her.

“Thanks,” Athena said breathless, scrambling to her feet. He merely nodded. “Also - duck.”

He obeyed at once, dropping to the ground, and Athena threw her knife at the monkey that had been about to pounce on him. The knife went straight through the monkey’s eye, and it dropped to the ground as well. Finnick stood and looked back at his now dead attacker.

“Thanks.”

She nodded and picked up the spear she had dropped. Finnick removed the knife from the monkey’s skull and tossed it back to her. They went back to the attack. Finnick aimed his trident at a monkey that was clawing at him, while Athena aimed her knife at a monkey that had been descending upon them from up above.

“PEETA!” came Katniss’ voice.

Athena whipped around, already alert. Katniss was standing without any more arrows, no way to shoot. A little ahead of her, there was Peeta. His knife had been knocked out of his hands at some point. And a monkey had lunged out of a tree, aiming right for his chest. Instinctively, Athena aimed her spear, even though a part of her knew it wouldn’t make it before the monkey got to Peeta.

Before she could throw her spear, though, something happened, something so fast, so senseless that Athena could hardly make sense of it. She seemed to materialize from thin air, the other morphling, Casey Turbo. One moment, she wasn’t there, the next moment she was reeling in front of Peeta. She was already bloody, her mouth open in a high-pitched scream, her pupils enlarged so that her eyes seemed like black holes. And then she threw up her skeletal arms, as if to embrace the monkey, and it sunk its fangs into her chest.

Athena acted on instinct and let her spear go flying, sinking into the monkey’s heart from behind. Its jaw went slack, and Peeta kicked the mutt away from Casey. Peeta stood again, his knife back in his hand. Katniss grabbed another sheath of arrows from him, Finnick retrieved his trident, and Athena removed her spear from the monkey’s back.

“Come on, then!” Peeta shouted, panting with rage. “Come on!”

But the monkeys were now almost hesitant to attack now. As though aware of the damage they had done.

“Get her,” Katniss said to Peeta. “We’ll cover you.”

Peeta gently lifted up the morphling and carried her the last few yards to the beach while Athena, Finnick, and Katniss kept their weapons at the ready. But the mutts were withdrawing now, back up trees, fading into the jungle, as if some unheard was calling them away. A Gamemaker’s voice, telling them that this was enough. Plutarch again, probably.

Peeta laid the morphling on the sand. Katniss cut away the material over her chest, revealing the four deep puncture wounds. Blood slowly trickled from them, making them look less deadly than they really were. The real damage was internal. Judging by the position of the openings, the beast had certainly ruptured something vital; a lung, maybe even her heart.

She lied on the sand, gasping like a fish out of water. Her skin was sagging and sickly green, and her ribs were as prominent as a child’s dead of starvation. Not because she couldn’t afford the food, Athena knew, but because of the years spent turning to morphling to keep her going. Katniss and Peeta held her twitching hands, and it was unclear whether it moved like that from the poison that affected their nerves or the shock from the attack or withdrawals from the drug that had been her sustenance for years or perhaps a combination. There was nothing that could be done for her.

“I'll watch the trees,” Finnick said heavily, before walking away.

Athena was aware that she should probably go with him, that he shouldn't be alone on the off chance the mutts recommenced their attack, but she couldn't move. She felt frozen at the sight of the morphling. Casey's wide eyes locked with Athena’s and stayed there for a long time. Casey was from District Six. Both of District Six's tributes were in on the mission. They had both agreed to die for Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark if need be, and so they had. Apollo had walked straight into the poison fog, and Casey had let the monkey sink its fangs into her chest. They both knew what they were doing, had done it willingly. A look of understanding passed between Athena and Casey in that moment.

Athena was overcome with the desire to do something for her, the way she hadn't been able to for her or her district partner earlier. She thought back to training, the way the morphlings had been glued to the camouflage station, the way they, Athena, and Peeta had painted Katniss into a field of yellow flowers. The morphlings were good at using camouflage seriously - that was a given, considering that no one, not even the monkeys, had noticed them until they decided to make themselves known - but they also appreciated the beauty in it. Athena got an idea at once. She wandered over to where the seashells were. There were probably enough for Casey’s whole body, but even so, she was certain Casey didn’t have that much time, and Athena wanted her to see it. She picked up an armful of the pearly white seashells and hurried back over and began to place the seashells around her head, encircling her head with them. When she was finished, Casey’s head was surrounded by the shells, a sort of crown for her. It wasn’t much, but it was something to distract her from the pain, she hoped. Something beautiful. Something that lasted.

Casey looked around at the shells, before her eyes found Athena again. She couldn’t quite manage a smile, too weak for it, but the look on her face was something close to it. She mouthed what Athena thought was a thank you, looking at her gratefully. Athena nodded and gave her a look that was supposed to be - what? A thank you? An apology? She wasn’t sure, but the morphling seemed to understand, for she nodded at her once.

Knowing there was nothing else for her to do and that Finnick really probably should have back up, she tore her eyes away from Casey with difficulty and walked over to meet him by the edge of the jungle, her spear held tightly in her hand. There didn’t appear to be any threat there, though. Except for the orange carcasses on the ground, the monkeys were gone. Athena and Finnick waited a while, just in case any of them decided to come back. When nothing happened, they ventured carefully back into the jungle to pick up the weapons that had been dropped. Athena retrieved her knife, wiped the monkey blood on her leg, and placed it back in her belt. Afterwards, Athena and Finnick began collecting all of Katniss’ arrows for her. One of the monkeys stirred slightly, and Finnick stabbed it through with his trident before it could think to move any further. Now more on edge, Athena and Finnick spent some time ensuring that the rest of the monkeys really were dead, before going back to picking up arrows.

Halfway through, they froze in their tracks at the sound of the cannon firing. Their eyes found each other almost immediately. Neither of them had to ask who they thought the death was.

“She knew what she was doing,” Finnick told Athena, correctly interpreting how she was feeling from the look on her face. He switched to sign language. “She knew what she signed up for. She knew what she was doing. Both of them did.”

"I know.”

But that didn’t really make the situation any less awful. There was nothing that could make the situation less awful, so they went back to collecting arrows. Once finished, they returned to the beach. They had carried Casey out onto the water. She floated towards the Cornucopia for a while, before the hovercraft appeared, a four-pronged claw dropped, encased her, carried her into the night sky, and then she was gone.

Athena and Finnick dropped the bloody arrows beside Katniss on the sand.

“We thought you might want these.”

“Thanks,” Katniss said, waded into the water, and began to wash the blood from her arrows and from her wounds.

Athena and Finnick sat down by Peeta. He had something on his cheek, a drawing of what she was pretty sure was a flower. Judging by the shaky way it was drawn and the fact that it was drawn in blood, she suspected Casey had drawn it on him with a trembling, bloody hand before she had died. He still hadn’t washed it off him.

The sight of it reminded her of something she needed to do now; make signs for Apollo and Casey - or, well, not make signs so much as carve their place in the world on a tree. Athena dragged herself onto her feet and walked over to the tree line. She was halfway there when the vines suddenly seemed to shift, blocking the jungle from sight. A moment later, the vines returned to their original positions, and the monkey carcasses were all gone.

“Where did they go?” asked Katniss, who had just returned from the water.

"We don’t know exactly,” said Finnick. “The vines shifted and they were gone.”

They stared at the jungle for several long moments. When nothing else happened, Athena proceeded. She found the nearest tree that was thick enough and began to carve with her spear:

_Casey Turbo, 62_

_District 6_

But she paused when she was about to write a message. She was at a loss of what to put down. Neither of the morphlings talked very much. Every time she had met them, they wouldn’t speak unless spoken to and would speak very little when addressed - and much of what they did say was hard to understand. During training, whenever she was at the camouflage station, they didn’t speak. Only painted. She thought of the field of flowers they had painted Katniss into, the flower Casey had just drawn on Peeta’s cheek with blood.

Suddenly, she got an idea. In the place of a quotation, she drew flowers. It wasn’t the prettiest thing she had ever done, because she was carving it into a tree with a spear and had no way of using any colours, so she made it as detailed as she possibly could to make up for it. She drew as many flowers as she actually knew how to draw; tulips, roses, sunflowers, violets, daisies, lotuses, water lilies, daisies, orchids, more. When she was finished, she did the same for Apollo Byke on the tree beside it, but instead she drew the night sky, remembering the way the two of them had once painted stars and galaxies and the moon. It wasn't much, but she did the best she could. For good measure, she found a few more seashells, these ones an orangey-red, and used vines to tie them strategically to their trees to make them a little more beautiful.

As satisfied as she would get, she lowered her spear, wiped the sweat from her brow, and rejoined Finnick, Katniss, and Peeta. They were all staring at the carvings Athena had made. Peeta was whispering Casey’s name under his breath, and it occurred to her he hadn’t even known what her name was. It had probably bothered him, knowing that someone had sacrificed themselves for him and he didn’t even know her name, because even though Katniss and Peeta knew nothing of the plan, she didn’t think there was any way to interpret Casey’s actions but as a sacrifice.

In the quiet, Athena began to notice the spots where the fog droplets touched her skin were scabbed over now. They stopped hurting and now begun to itch intensely. She tried to think of this as a good sign, since it meant they were healing, but the itching was too much to bear and she began scratching at her damaged skin before long. Finnick and Peeta were both scratching at their damaged faces. Only Katniss seemed able to restrain herself.

“Don’t scratch,” she said. “You’ll only bring infection. Think it’s safe to try for the water again?”

They made their way back to the tree Peeta was tapping. Athena, Finnick, and Katniss stood with their weapons poised while he worked the spile in, but no threat came. Peeta had found a good vein and the water began to gush from the spile. They all quenched their thirst and let them warm water pour over their itching bodies. They filled a handful of the white shells with drinking water and went back to the beach.

It was still night. It felt like hours had gone by since Athena had been woken up, though. Dawn couldn’t be too far away - unless, of course, the Gamemakers wanted it to be.

“Why don’t you three get some rest?” said Katniss. “I’ll watch for a while.”

“No, Katniss, I’d rather,” said Finnick, and something in his face, his eyes, was hard to argue with just then.

Athena made no argument, and Katniss said, “Alright, Finnick, thanks.”

Finnick moved to sit near the shallow part of the water. Katniss and Peeta stretched out beside each other on the sand, and were both asleep before long. Athena lied down a little ways’ off and tried to sleep, but she couldn’t do it. She turned this way and that, kept her eyes shut and tried to focus on the sound of the waves, even made herself count sheep. It was no good. She couldn’t sleep, far too restless, too many things running through her mind.

Athena sat up. Her hair had fallen almost entirely loose from her bun in all the chaos, so she freed the remaining strands of hair and let her hair fall around her shoulders for now. She looked around her. Katniss and Peeta were still asleep. Finnick was still on watch from his spot in the water. The area seemed abandoned, though. Finally, she stood up and drifted over to sit by Finnick in the water, a safe distance away.

“You should be sleeping,” he said to her, though he didn’t look surprised to see her.

“I’m not tired.”

“Athena - ”

“I’m not tired,” she said again, more firmly. “I can’t sleep. Not after - after all this - ” she gestured around her vaguely.

He looked like he wanted to protest further, but decided against it. They were quiet for a while. She ran a hand through the water idly, watching it ripple at her every touch. After a while, Finnick broke the silence.

"That spile was from Haymitch. It was for Katniss and Peeta. I mean, one, neither of us had any way of knowing what it was. And two, Mags was our mentor. Mentors seal sponsorships. Mags is dead. Which means we have no way of getting sponsors.”

Athena considered this. Though she hadn’t consciously put those pieces together, his words didn’t surprise her. Her heart heavy, she said, “I know.”

“So,” he said, looking to her appealingly, “what do we do now?”

She shrugged. “The only thing there is to do.” At the look on her face, she elaborated. “Hope Katniss and Peeta are popular enough for the four of us.”

Finnick let out a laugh at that, unable to hold back. Athena joined in before long, trying to stifle it in order not to alert the attention and suspicion of the allies in question. They soon fell silent again.

“Why?” he asked, eventually, his voice soft, looking grief-stricken.

She didn’t have to ask what he meant by that. She knew exactly what he was asking. Why Mags? She was quiet for a moment, considering it. All sorts of thoughts, different reasons why had been running wild in and out of her head, almost dizzying. It could have been to punish her for her involvement in... whatever Snow suspected they were planning. Or it was to scare them off, to warn them of what would happen if they went any further with it. Maybe he had no idea who else was involved and thus punished the only person he had on his list of suspects. Perhaps he thought no one would care about Mags as much as any of the other tributes or mentors, given that, as well-loved as she was, it had been decades since she was the center of the Capitol’s attention. Maybe it was to punish her and Finnick, to break her by having to watch it. Perhaps Snow wanted to ensure that Athena and Finnick received no extra help in the arena, leaving them on their own, wanting them dead even more than she had originally thought. A million more possibilities ran through her head. She knew they couldn’t afford to dwell on it, though, not with the cameras that were broadcasting them across Panem. Even sign language felt too dangerous.

“I have some theories,” she said finally.

He nodded once, gravely, unsurprised. “So do I.” Another pause. Finnick shook his head. “She deserved... so much better than this... did she suffer long?”

She glanced at him, pressing her lips together. She felt her eyes sting and willed herself not to cry. “She... they kept beating her, but then... when they shot her, it was fast.”

He nodded slowly. His eyes had an oddly reflective quality to them, which she realized was because they were shining with tears. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out, so he closed it again and they were silent. Unable to help herself, she replayed Mags’ death over and over in her head. One part of it kept nagging at her mind, though. After a while, she expressed it to Finnick.

“I think she knew,” she said finally, and something about saying it out loud made her more sure of herself. He looked over at her in confusion, and she elaborated. “I think she knew... she knew it was going to happen. She knew they’d kill her or take her or something, because I remember... when she turned to look at the Peacekeepers, she didn’t seem... she didn’t look surprised or confused or anything. It was like she knew what was going on.”

They were both silent as those words hung in the air. The more she thought about it, the more certain of it she felt. Her final words to Athena had felt so much like a final goodbye, but if the mission was successful, that left a good chance of Athena and Finnick making it out alive, which meant there was no reason they wouldn’t see each other again... unless she already knew that something would happen to her.

“It makes sense,” Finnick signed finally. “We all agreed to die for this mission. It was probably stupid of us to think that she wouldn’t be included in that.”

Athena nodded. Her body felt like led, weighing her down. She closed her eyes, listened to the waves, tried to make them block out the sounds of Mags crying out in pain echoing in her head. She opened her eyes again at the sound of an oddly strangled noise, turned over to see that Finnick was trying and failing to keep himself from crying. His hands were under the water, digging his nails into the sand. He was much bigger than she was, but he seemed to shrinking in on himself. If they were being broadcasted on television, she hoped only that all those watching in the Capitol simply thought of this as someone comforting a friend. Either way, she would not act distant with him. Not now.

She shifted so that she was sitting a little closer to him, and brought one of her hands down beside his. An invitation, if he wanted it. He stared down at her hand for a moment, before his hand closed down upon hers, lacing their fingers together, gripping onto it tightly. With their hands underwater, there was no way for the cameras to see that they were holding hands. She rested her head on his shoulder, he tilted his head to rest on hers, and he seemed unable to hold back after that, breaking down into sobs he could barely keep down. She rubbed the back of his hand with her thumb soothingly. The distressed, utterly grief-stricken noises he was making while he cried broke down whatever restraint she was still showing, and soon she cracked, crying silently beside him over Mags, the way her life had been taken away so violently, with such little regard for it, the way they’d never see her again...

Finnick tilted his head so that he was whispering, his voice shaking and breaking from his sobs, into her hair, ensuring that the cameras couldn’t pick up on the movement of his lips. “I hate them. I hate them all. Every last one of them.”

Athena nodded slowly. It was hard not to feel that way sometimes. Often times. It was impossible not to now.

She merely whispered to him, “We’re going to make it mean something. We’re not going to let it be in vain.”

She said it like a promise. A guarantee.

She wasn’t sure how much time had passed until it seemed Athena was out of tears and her breathing became more steady. It was still dark, but she could see the beginnings of a sunrise in the horizon. A little while after she did, Finnick stopped crying as well, managing to calm himself down. Despite this, Athena knew if they didn’t find something to keep them going soon, it would be nearly impossible to pick themselves up later on.

After lingering in the moment for a little longer, she forced herself to move away from him, release his hand with reluctance, and stand. He stared up at her. He wasn’t crying anymore, but his sea green eyes still shone with tears and were red and puffy.

“Come on,” she said, extending a hand to help him up, “there are still a couple things we should do to make ourselves useful before Katniss and Peeta wake up. And to keep us from picking at these fucking scabs.”

He smiled at that, glancing down at the scabs that marred their skin all over, before looking back up at her. He seemed to realize that she was trying to find a way to keep them going, from sinking into despair and staying there. He also seemed to realize just how crucial that was. He always said it himself; it took ten times longer to put yourself back together as it did to fall apart. They didn’t have that time anymore. They had survived the first of three nights before the rescue mission was executed, but who knew what laid ahead? They would need all their strength to face it. And so he reached up to take her hand, allowing her to help pull him off his feet and out of despair, at least for the time being.


	20. XIX

**XIX**

 

Finnick and Athena managed to get a lot done between them as the sun rose slowly and night turned to day. They weaved more grass mats for them to lay on, as well as a mat that was suspended on branches to shield their faces from the sunlight and keep them from getting burned. They weaved three bowls afterwards. Finnick carefully extracted the spile from Katniss’ belt without waking her and filled two of the bowls with fresh water, while Athena set to work on catching different shellfish. Once he finished filling the bowls with water, he sat down on the sand and watched as Athena worked on slowly filling the bowl with shellfish, at the absolute stillness of her body as she searched for and watched her target, the concentration and focus on her face as she waited for just the right moment, the swiftness with which she struck when the time came.

Athena had been right to get them to be productive in the time they were on watch. Using his hands to weave bowls and mats felt almost therapeutic in the way tying and untying his bit of rope always felt. He didn’t feel _better_ , necessarily, but he felt like he could keep going, which was all they really needed for the time being. They had survived the first of three days. All that was left was to make it until midnight on the third night...

Beside him, Katniss was starting to stir. She sat up slowly and looked around her, before her eyes landed on Athena.

“What’s she doing?”

“Catching breakfast,” Finnick replied, gesturing at the shellfish already in the bowl.

Katniss stared over at Athena for a little. “She's... not what I expected.”

Finnick supposed that when all you saw of her were television appearances for the benefit of the Capitol, she wouldn't be what you expected. Katniss didn't say it like it was a bad thing, though.

“Yeah,” Finnick said finally, “she sneaks up on you.”

“Katniss wanted her after day one of training,” came Peeta’s voice. “Both did.”

“Really?” Finnick said. He hadn’t known this; Haymitch never mentioned it. Maybe he hadn’t viewed it as important to mention because he knew they were going to be allies whether Katniss and Peeta liked it or not.

Katniss seemed debating confirming or denying anything, until she realized there was no point in hiding it and nodded. It wasn’t that surprising. Athena was a good fighter, and she had a way of making people like her, making them want to be around her.

“Katniss has remarkably good judgement,” Finnick said. “Which is lucky. I couldn't leave Athena behind.” When they stared at him, he provided a safe explanation. “She's one of the few people who actually likes me. You learn to keep those people close.”

“Wanted Athena and Wiress and Beetee,” Peeta was saying, while Katniss cracked a smile. He looked half asleep.

“Go back to sleep,” Katniss told Peeta.

Peeta looked like he wanted to protest, but he was much more exhausted than he tried to let on, and he fell back asleep almost in spite of himself. Finnick and Katniss exchanged smiles at the way he slumped back onto the sand.

Finnick looked back at Athena, still concentrating hard on the task at hand, and a mischievous smile crossed his face.

“Speaking of sneaking up on people...”

Before Katniss could question him, he stood and tiptoed back over to the water, deadly silent, to where Athena stood.

 

*

 

Athena was silent, concentrating hard as she looked down at the water, her gaze fixed on the creatures swimming about below. Her eyes locked on one of the shellfish, moving slower than the rest. She set her sights on it, and was about to strike when there was a sudden movement and someone’s voice calling out, “Careful!” from right behind her.

Athena whipped around, moving her spear at top speed to point it at the source of the noise. Instead of the enemy she had been expecting, she found Finnick on the other end of her spear. He was looking from the blade of her spear to her face, his hands raised in surrender, but he didn’t look concerned about the weapon she was pointing directly at his chest. His eyes were still puffy and rimmed with red, but it was fading, and now he was laughing at the look on her face. In the background, now awake and sitting upright on the sand, was Katniss, who was also laughing at the scene before her. Rolling her eyes but unable to help but crack a tiny smile at the way they were laughing, at the dimples that appeared as Finnick grinned down at her, Athena lowered her spear.

“Fuck you, Finnick!” Athena said, without as much anger as she had meant to say it with, and he laughed, apparently unperturbed. “You know, I was going to run you right through with this.”

She brandished her spear a little for emphasis. Finnick still seemed unbothered.

“Maybe,” he conceded, “but you would’ve been overwhelmed with guilt after, which would’ve made us even.”

“You call that even?” Athena demanded. “I wouldn’t have a spear sticking out of me. Considering the state you’re in right now,” she gestured dramatically at the scabs that covered every bit of his skin, “I wouldn’t be asking for things to go any worse.”

“You really shouldn’t be talking,” said Finnick. “You’re not exactly at your best, either.”

He was, of course, referring to the scabs that covered Athena’s skins, the scabs it was taking all of Athena’s willpower not to pick at and itch. The comments were funny, mainly, because they both looked horrible and they both knew it. Athena looked down at her scabby hands; it was odd to think that two days ago, with the help of her prep team, they had been glowing and smooth and satiny. Athena looked back at Finnick. For one long, suspended moment, they simply stared at each other in silence, the waves lapping at their legs.

“Fuck you, Finnick,” Athena said again finally.

Finnick burst out laughing again. Athena rolled her eyes and shook her head, but there was no denying it; she was smiling now.

“Laugh all you want, that was _your_ breakfast I was trying to catch.”

Finnick looked from Athena, to the space in the water at which she was gesturing. “That? I can take care of that.”

She gave him a look. He took a few steps towards her.

“Just because I'm not teaching the future of District Four doesn't mean I don't know what I'm doing.”

Athena rolled her eyes again, but couldn't help smiling a little as she said, “They're all yours.”

She patted him on the shoulder and waded back over to the beach. Sure enough, before long, Finnick had filled up the rest of the third bowl with shellfish and sat down on the sand again.

“Happy?” he asked, smirking at her, as they set to work at cracking the shellfish open with a stone.

She gave him a sideways glance, before saying, “Reasonably satisfied.”

He grinned, ripping a chunk of flesh from the shell, popped it into his mouth, and said to Katniss, who was watching them in slight confusion, “They’re better fresh.”

Looking suddenly ravenous, Katniss reached out to grab one, but then stopped at the sight of her hands. Her fingernails were caked in blood. Despite being the one that had advised them against scratching their scabs, it was clear she’d been scratching at her skin incessantly in her sleep.

“You know, if you scratch you’ll bring on infection,” said Finnick.

“That’s what I’ve heard,” Katniss said shortly.

She went to the saltwater to wash off the blood. She returned to the beach, pained and irritated and fed up. She turned her face skyward and snapped, “Hey, Haymitch, if you’re not too drunk, we could use a little something for our skin!”

It was almost funny how quickly the parachute appeared above her after her words. She reached up and the tube landed squarely in her open hand.

“About time,” Katniss said, clearly trying to look mad, but she couldn’t keep the scowl on her face.

For a moment, Athena just stared at the tube. Then she looked up at Katniss and said, “You couldn’t have done that with the water yesterday?”

“I’ll keep it in mind for the future.”

She plopped down on the stand beside Athena and Finnick and screw the lid off the tube. Inside was a thick, dark ointment with a pungent smell, an odd combination of tar and pine needles. She wrinkled her nose at the smell, squeezed a glob of the substance onto her palm, and began massaging it into her leg. Katniss immediately let out a sigh of relief, the effect of the medicine apparently instant. It also seemed to turn her scabby skin into a ghastly grey-green. Once Katniss had moved onto her other leg, she tossed the tube to Athena, who hesitated.

“It's like you're decomposing,” said Finnick.

And he was right. It was the reason Athena was hesitant, but she'd much rather look hideous than endure the pain or the itching, so she gave in and began to treat her own skin, as well. She was immediately glad she did, because the ointment brought immediate relief to her itching. She soon passed the tube to Finnick, who also paused for a moment, but apparently the itching was too much for him too, for he soon followed suit. Really, the scabs alone had looked ugly enough, but combined with the ointment, it was hideous. Even Finnick's beauty could not come out of it in one piece. Katniss seemed to be enjoying his distress.

“Poor Finnick. Is this the first time in your life you haven't looked pretty?”

“It must be,” Finnick replied. “The sensation's completely new. How have you managed it all these years?”

“Just avoid mirrors. You'll forget about it.”

“Not if I keep looking at you.”

Athena was laughing to herself at the exchange as she rubbed the medicine carefully onto her legs. Finnick eyed her for a moment, before turning back to Katniss.

“See, this is who we should really be watching out for,” Finnick said, gesturing at Athena. ”She lets us fight amongst ourselves when she's the real threat. You're making all the pretty boy comments at me, but I think this is the first time she hasn't looked camera ready in years.”

Athena opened her mouth, couldn't think of a clever enough retort, closed it, and settled for shoving him. Finnick and Katniss both dissolved into laughter.

They slathered themselves down, even taking turns rubbing the ointment into their backs where their jumpsuits and their undergarments had not protected their skin.

“I should wake Peeta up now,” said Katniss.

“No, wait,” said Finnick. “Let's do it together. Put our faces right in front of his.”

And the arena - their lives in general, really - did not provide enough opportunities for fun to be able to refuse. They positioned themselves around Peeta, leaned over until their faces were inches from his nose, and gave him a shake.

“Peeta. Peeta, wake up,” Katniss said in a soft, singsong voice.

His eyelids fluttered opened and then he jumped like he'd been stabbed, letting out a strangled cry. Athena, Finnick, and Katniss all fell back into the sand, laughing like mad. Every time they tried to stop, they would look over at Peeta's unsuccessful attempt to maintain a disdainful expression and it set them off again. They were only just managing to calm themselves down again when another parachute landed next to them with a fresh loaf of bread. The implication it left was clear; the more they acted friendly with each other, the more gifts they would receive. Athena supposed it made sense. Four Capitol favourites, all together, talking, laughing, joking around together; the Capitol must have been going crazy over them.

Athena was distracted as she looked at the bread more closely. Finnick was turning it over in his hands, examining the crust. It had a green tint that came from seaweed, which Athena knew because she'd been eating this bread all her life, because this bread came from District Four. This particular gift was undeniably for Athena and Finnick.

But that made no sense. Mentors were the ones that sealed sponsorships. Their mentor was dead. So how could this have happened? Had they brought in one or more of the other victors from Four and forced them into the role? It seemed unlikely. Perhaps Alayne had stepped up? It made sense, certainly; Alayne had been watching from up close and even assisting in the mentoring process for years, especially this year in an attempt to pick up the slack from there only being one mentor instead of the usual two. But still, she had never actually had to conduct any official mentoring duties and Athena wasn't sure how well she'd be able to do it, especially on such short notice. And that was assuming she'd be permitted to do such a thing, and the likelihood of that wasn't high. The only other possibility was that this was Haymitch’s way of showing that he was working overtime for Athena's and Finnick's sake as well as his own tributes’. It would make sense; if they were to protect Katniss and Peeta, then there was a real stake in keeping them alive to do just that, and without Mags to ensure it, she could see the logic in the responsibility falling on Haymitch. It also seemed more likely than the theory that it was Alayne's doing, because Haymitch was much more likely to go under Snow's nose than Alayne. Still, Athena didn't know how they could do any of this without arousing suspicion from Snow, who was doubtlessly keeping a close watch on what happened next now that he had killed Mags. It felt awfully reckless.

Athena shook off her doubts, though. At the end of the day, whatever it was that brought this about (perhaps so many sponsors had insisted on donating to their cause that Snow simply could not refuse; Athena didn't think the Capitol loved her that much, but she could see Finnick inspiring them to such actions. Perhaps Alayne really had shouldered the responsibility and had been permitted to do so), this plan was too sensitive and too important to be risked for Athena and Finnick, as needed as they were as guardians for Katniss and Peeta. If the likely scenario of Haymitch being behind this (perhaps with Plutarch pulling some strings, making moves and countermoves to allow it, maybe even involving Alayne without giving her a full picture) was true, it was being done because and only because it didn't sacrifice the mission. She could do nothing but operate under the assumption that they knew what they were doing.

Athena and Finnick locked eyes. It was clear at once that all those thoughts had just run through his mind in those seconds since the bread landed before him. In the end, though, all he said was, “This will go well with the shellfish.”

Katniss helped cover Peeta's skin with the ointment while Athena and Finnick deftly cleaned the meat from the shellfish. When they were finished, they gathered around and ate the delicious sweet flesh along with the salty bread. It was a pleasant yet aching thing, sitting on the beach in front of the saltwater, eating the sort of things she'd eaten all her life. If it wasn't for the jungle that surrounded them and the fact that she knew better than to fall into such dangerous delusions in times like these, she could have pretended she was back home in Four where she belonged.

The loaf made her think about how she might never see another one of them again. It made her think about her home. It made her think about her mother and her sister and her friends, all those she cared for back home, who she could only hope were as safe as they could be from whatever dangers were present in District Four just then. It reminded her of Mags. She pushed the thought from her mind. She made herself focus on the food instead, which was much easier and much more pleasant.

At some point, they needed to refill the water bowls. Peeta went this time, and Athena accompanied him to watch his back. Athena stood in front him, her spear held tightly in her hand, watching for any threats, while he set to work on making a hole in a satisfactory tree, placing the spile in the hole, and pouring water into the two grass bowls. No threats came, though. The place was relatively calm and quiet.

“I’m sorry,” Peeta said quietly to her, out of nowhere, after he filled up the first bowl and went to fill up the second. “About Mags. Your mentor, right? You were close?”

Athena was surprised for a split second, before she simply smiled at him, hoping her expression was bracing. “Yeah. Yeah, we were.”

“Well, I’m sorry for your loss,” he said, and he seemed to mean it despite having not known Mags.

“I - thank you,” Athena said, not knowing what else to say, not trusting herself to say anything else. She couldn’t afford to break down again.

He merely nodded. Once they had enough water, they returned to their little camp. Athena refocused on the food, glad to give herself something else about which to think.

They all looked monstrous. The ointment was causing the scabs to peel, but she still felt glad for the medicine, not only because of the relief it provided from the itching, but because it protected them from the blazing hot sun in the pink sky above. She studied the position of it long enough to guess that it was about ten o’clock. They had officially been in the arena for a day.

 _One down,_ she thought. _Two more to go._

Athena, who quite liked where they were on the beach, was dreading the thought of returning to the jungle. It had turned from a place of refuge and protection to a sinister trap, in her mind. She knew they would have to go back eventually, either to hunt or avoid being hunted, but she intended to delay the inevitable and stick to their spot on the beach for the time being. Finnick, Katniss, and Peeta didn't bring forth any other suggestions.

For a while, the jungle seemed almost static, humming, shimmering, but not flaunting its dangers. Then, in the distance, the screams started. Across from them, a wedge in the jungle began to vibrate. An enormous wave, unlike anything Athena had ever seen even during District Four's worst storms, rose high on the hill, topping the trees and roaring down the hill. It hit the existing seawater with such force that, even though they were as far as they could get from it, the surf bubbled up around their knees, setting their few possessions afloat. Between the four of them, though, they managed to grab hold of everything before they floated away.

The cannon fired. They saw the hovercraft appear over the area where the wave appeared and pluck a body out of the trees.

Twelve dead, now. Half the tributes gone in a day. Just as intended, both by the government and by the rebels. All but two of them had been identified. Athena didn't like thinking about it, but she knew it was important to have an idea of who was still out there, so she ran through a list in her head of all those who potentially remained besides their group of four. She doubted any of the Careers were dead so soon, so she counted them all in. Beetee and Wiress, maybe. Maybe Vida Foster, but as much as Athena didn't like to think about it, she probably wouldn't last long, given her mental and physical state. It was likely her death had been the cause of one of the two cannons of which she was uncertain. Johanna and Blight. Chaff. Besides Athena, Finnick, Katniss, and Peeta, there were eight of them left. Depending which two were dead, about half of them were in on the mission.

The circle of water slowly calmed down, having absorbed the giant wave. They rearranged their things back on the wet sand and were about to settle back down when Athena saw them. Three figures, about two spokes away, stumbling their way onto the beach.

“Look,” Athena whispered to Finnick, Katniss, and Peeta, nodding her head in the direction of the newcomers.

They followed her gaze. As if by some silent agreement, they faded back into the shadows of the jungle, watching the figures carefully. The trio was in bad shape, that much was obvious. One was practically being dragged by another, and the third wandered in loopy circles as if deranged. They were a solid brick-red colour, as though dipped in paint and left to dry.

“Who is that?” Peeta asked. “Or what? Muttations?”

And they did look like they could be mutts from this distance, but the longer she eyed them, the more doubtful of it she became. They were stumbling around, looking lost and weakened. She didn't understand what the points of mutts like that were, especially after something like those monkeys they had encountered last night. No, these were tributes. All the same, Athena raised her spear, ready for an attack, but all that happened was that the one who was being dragged collapsed onto the beach. The dragger stamped the ground in frustration and, in an apparent fit of temper, turned and shoved the circling, deranged one over, letting out an angered cry as they did. Athena lowered her spear immediately, her face lighting up. She had no idea who the other figures were, she could only hope it was some combination of Wiress and Beetee and Blight, but she knew at once that the figure of the dragger belonged to -

“Johanna,” Finnick whispered from beside her, apparently coming to this realization at the same time as her.

For a moment, they exchanged significant, delighted looks; then they turned, called out, “Johanna!” and ran for the red figures.

“Athena! Finnick!” Johanna called out to them in reply, and Athena grinned, relief flooding through her.

They reached the three figures, and Johanna was striding forward to greet them. Beetee was the one who was lying on the ground, while Wiress was the one Johanna pushed over, but she was back on her feet now and continuing making loops.

“Fuck, it's good to see you,” said Johanna.

“You too,” said Athena at once, then gestured at her entirely red body. “What happened to you guys?”

Johanna let out a frustrated noise, rolling her eyes and saying, “This arena is such _bullshit_ , that's what. Especially that jungle.”

Athena and Finnick exchanged glances at that, before the latter said, “Yeah, we've had our own experiences in there.”

“I can tell,” Johanna said with a nod, eyeing their peeling scabs. “You both look fucking awful. The lovers do, too,” she added, nodding at Katniss and Peeta, who were approaching with cautious and confused expressions on their faces. “I'd be happy about it, but I look just as bad.”

“What happened?”

“It was the four of us,” she said. “Us three and Blight. Blight and I managed to get them out, but they were all in a bad way after - Volts was injured, Nuts was... Nuts, and Blight was all nervous and panicky - you know how he got sometimes. So I took them all the way deep into the jungle where I thought it’d be _safe_. We walked around all day, and then when night fell... that was when the rain started. Well, we thought it was rain, anyway, because of the lightning, and we were all so thirsty. But when it started coming down, it turned out to be blood. Hot, thick blood. You couldn’t see, you couldn’t speak without getting a mouthful of the stuff. We just staggered around, trying to get out of it.”

Athena wondered where they got that much blood from; her mind involuntarily went to Mags, and she decided she didn’t want to know.

“That’s when Blight hit the force field.”

Johanna paused at that, letting out a deep sigh, closing her eyes, and tilting her head back. Athena’s heart sank. She had already put together that something must have happened to Blight for him not to be there, but it was still upsetting to hear. And she knew Johanna wasn’t taking it well; she cared about Blight more than she let on.

“I’m sorry, Johanna,” said Finnick.

“Yeah, well,” Johanna said shortly, opening her eyes again and facing them squarely again, “he wasn’t much, but he was from home. And he left me alone with these two.” She nudged Beetee, who was barely conscious, with her shoe. “He got a knife in the back at the Cornucopia. And her - ”

They all looked over at Wiress, who was circling around, coated in blood, and murmuring, “Tick, tock. Tick, tock.”

“Yeah, we know. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Nuts is in shock.”

Johanna’s voice seemed to draw Wiress in her direction, careening into Johanna, who shoved her back onto the sand.

“Just stay down, will you?”

Athena frowned and was about to say something, when Katniss snapped, “Lay off her.”

Johanna narrowed her brown eyes at her, fury in her eyes. “Lay off her?” she hissed. She stepped forward and, before anyone could react or stop it, slapped Katniss so hard that Athena could _hear_ how painful it was. “Who do you think got them out of that bleeding jungle for you? You - ”

But at that moment, Finnick tossed her writhing body over his shoulder, carried her out into the water, and repeatedly dunked her while she screamed a lot of insulting things at Katniss. Athena struggled not to laugh, since the sight reminded her too much of an odd, twisted version of the baptisms they’d do in the ocean in District Four. Katniss didn’t react to the insults, mainly because she looked confused.

“What did she mean? She got them for me?”

“I don’t know,” said Peeta. “You did want them originally.”

“Yeah, I did. Originally.”

But that didn’t seem sufficient enough explanation. Katniss turned to Athena next, as though expecting her to understand Johanna, which she did, but she also knew she couldn't explain any of what Johanna meant to Katniss, so she just said, “Johanna just says things sometimes.”

“No, I don't, you bitch!” Johanna hurled at her. Finnick pulled her back into the water.

“See?” Athena said, as though proving her point, her lips twitching upward in a smile. “She just called me a bitch, but she loves me. Don't worry about it too much.” Athena looked down at Beetee’s inert body. “You might not have them for long if they stay like this. Look, you two take Wiress and Beetee back to camp and fix them up, I’ll stay here and make sure neither of these two die.”

She jerked her thumb in Finnick and Johanna’s direction. The latter screamed, “Fuck you!” and the former dunked her back into the water.

“We’ll meet up with you soon,” Athena continued, as though there had been no interruption. “If you need any help, you know where we’ll be.”

Katniss and Peeta nodded. Peeta lifted Beetee up in his arms, Katniss took Wiress by the hand, and they returned to their little beach camp. Athena made sure they were in a good position, before drifting over to where Finnick and Johanna were.

“You should probably shut up,” Athena said casually to Johanna.

“Are you telling me to shut up?” Johanna demanded, and managed to wrestle herself from Finnick’s grasp, striding up to her.

“Yes, I am,” Athena said, holding her ground and staring up at Johanna calmly. “Katniss is already confused about your little ‘I got them for you’ comment, and if you keep going like this, we’re going to get people asking questions we don’t need them to be asking.”

Johanna seemed to understand. She took a deep breath, exhaling slowly.

“Fine,” she said. “Fine.”

Now free from Finnick’s grasp, she began washing off the rest of the blood, the seawater cleansing her. When she was shiny and clean again, they looked towards their camp on the beach. They had stripped off Beetee’s clothes, washed all the blood off of him, and used some of the moss Athena had given Katniss to blow her nose with yesterday to cover his wounds, securing it with some vines. He was lying in the shade of the treeline on one of the grass mats. Katniss was rinsing the blood off Wiress now, soaking her jumpsuit and her undergarments, before helping her back into them.

“I almost died for this,” Johanna said in disgust.

“Us too,” Athena said with a nod. “But we didn’t. So come on.”

She led the way back to the beach. By the time they reached their camp, Katniss had finished rinsing out Beetee’s jumpsuit. For a while, Johanna simply stuffed herself with shellfish and took gulps of water while Athena and Katniss tried to coax something into Wiress. Finnick talked about the poison fog and the monkeys. None of them brought up Mags.

Everyone offered to guard while the others rested, but in the end, it was Johanna and Katniss who stayed up; Katniss, because she did seem genuinely well rested, and Johanna because she blatantly refused to lie down. Athena lied down a safe distance away from Finnick, and was surprised by how quickly exhaustion took over, pulling her to an uneasy sleep.

She had been asleep for a couple hours when she was woken up by a sharp voice calling out, “Tick, tock!”

She bolted upright, gripping onto her spear tightly, before she realized it was just Wiress, who had apparently woken up herself and was now crawling over closer to the rest of them. Her eyes were fixed on the jungle.

“Oh, goody, she’s back,” Johanna said dully. “Okay, I’m going to sleep. Nuts can take my place.”

Johanna got up and flung herself onto the sand by Athena and Finnick. Finnick had also been stirred by Wiress, but soon turned over and went back to sleep. Johanna soon fell asleep, too. Athena let them sleep, glad they were getting some rest. Athena was still a little tired and wanted to go back to sleep as well, but her eyes were on Wiress, unable to look away.

“Tick, tock,” she said again, now speaking in a whisper. It really did seem like she was trying to say something very important, but it was always sort of difficult to interpret Wiress’ words, and without Beetee to explain her thoughts, Athena was at a loss. “Tick, tock.”

“Yes, tick, tock,” Athena said in agreement, nodding once. “Tick, tock.”

This seemed to set her at ease a bit, allowing Katniss to guide her in front of her and lay her down, stroking her arm soothingly. Wiress drifted off, stirring restlessly, occasionally sighing out the little phrase. “Tick, tock.”

“Tick, tock,” Katniss agreed softly. “It’s time for bed. Tick, tock. Go to sleep.”

The sun rose in the sky until it was directly above them. It must have been around noon. Across the water, off to the right, she saw an enormous flash as the lightning bolt hit the tree and the electrical storm began again. Right in the same area as it did last night. Someone must have moved into its range, triggering the attack. Athena lied back down, but kept watching the lightning. She thought about last night, how the lightning began just after the bell tolled. Twelve bongs.

“Tick, tock,” came Wiress’ voice again, surfacing to consciousness for a moment, before going right back under.

“Tick, tock,” Athena muttered slowly under her breath, as though she had now caught onto the phrase, propping herself up on her elbows. “Tick, tock.”

She surveyed the arena. The lightning was there in the first wedge. In the next wedge over came the blood rain in which Johanna, Wiress, and Beetee were caught. Athena, Finnick, Katniss, and Peeta would have been in the third wedge, right next to that, when the fog appeared. As soon as that was sucked away, the monkeys began gathering in the fourth.

“Tick, tock,” she murmured to herself, sitting up straighter, the gears turning in her head, feeling like she was putting the pieces of a large puzzle together slowly.

Her head snapped to the other side of the arena. A couple of hours ago, at around ten, that wave came out of the second section to the left of where the lightning struck now. At noon. At midnight. At noon.

“Tick, tock.”

That time it was Wiress, muttering it in her sleep. As the lightning ceased and the blood rain began just to the right of it, everything clicked and her words suddenly made sense.

“Oh,” Athena said. “Oh.” She turned her head. “Katniss...”

She figured she ought to run her train of thought by someone to ensure she wasn’t losing her mind, and Katniss, who was the only other person awake, seemed as good of a person as any. But Katniss seemed lost in thought, even as her grey eyes slid over to meet hers.

“The lightning was in exactly the same place it was last night,” she murmured, and Athena knew at once she was coming to the same conclusion as her. “Twelve hours apart.”

“And then next was the blood rain.”

“Then the monkeys.”

“And they all came an hour apart...”

“And the wave came from there - ” Katniss gestured at the corresponding wedge - “and then about two hours later came the lightning...”

At some point during all this, they had both gotten to their feet. Athena supposed this was the sort of revelation that one ought to be standing for. They broke eye contact to sweep their eyes around the full circle of the arena, and just like that, Athena became certain. “Tick, tock,” Katniss whispered. “Tick, tock. This is a clock.”

A clock. She could almost see the hands ticking around the twelve-sectioned face of the arena. Each hour brought about a new horror, a new Gamemaker weapon, and ended the previous. She had thought it was the death of a tribute that stopped the attacks, but it was actually the hour ending. Lightning, blood rain, fog, monkeys - those were the first four hours. At ten was the wave. She didn’t know what happened during the other seven hours, but she knew she was right. Wiress was a genius. An absolute genius, and there was no denying it.

Currently, the blood rain was falling and they were on the beach below the monkey segment, a little too close to the fog for her liking. Did the various attacks stay within the confines of the jungle? Perhaps not. The wave didn’t, at least. If the fog spread out of the jungle, or the monkeys returned...

For a moment, Athena and Katniss simply gazed at each other, the weight of their revelation hanging over them; then, they hastened to wake the others up, shaking them awake quickly and insisting they get up. Their voices were urgent, but they had enough time to explain the clock theory to them, to explain Wiress’ tick-tocking and how the movements of the invisible hands of a clock triggered a deadly force in each section of the arena. Katniss had trouble convincing Johanna, who simply seemed naturally opposed to anything she suggested, but when Athena backed her up she had to accept it. And even she couldn’t deny that it was better to be safe than sorry.

While the others collected their few possessions and got Beetee back into his jumpsuit, Katniss roused Wiress. She awoke with a panicked, “Tick, tock!”

“Yes, tick, tock, the arena’s a clock,” said Katniss. “It’s a clock, Wiress, you were right. You were right.”

“You’re a genius, Wiress,” Athena added, reaching out to take her hand and squeeze it briefly. “A _genius_.”

Wiress beamed, relief flooding her face, probably glad that someone had finally put together what she had likely known since the first tolling of the bells. “Midnight.”

“It starts at midnight,” Katniss confirmed.

Athena’s brow furrowed a little at that, thoughtful. It started at midnight. The rescue mission tomorrow would also start at midnight. Was it a sign from Plutarch? A confirmation of what was to come? She doubted it was a coincidence.

Wiress nodded at the blood rain. “One-thirty.”

“Exactly. One-thirty. And at two, a terrible poisonous fog begins there,” Katniss said, pointing at the nearby jungle. “So we have to move somewhere face now.”

Wiress smiled and stood up obediently.

“Are you thirsty?” Athena asked, handing her the woven bowl.

She gulped down about a quart. Finnick gave her the last of the bread and she gnawed on it. With the ability to communicate overcome, she was functioning again. Athena took a moment to check over all her weapons, then tied her hair back into a ponytail.

Beetee was still out of it, but when Peeta tried to lift him, he objected.

“Wire.”

“She’s right here,” Peeta told him. “Wiress is fine. She’s coming too.”

But Beetee still struggled, insisting, “Wire.”

“Oh, I know what he wants,” Johanna said impatiently. She crossed the beach and picked up the cylinder that had been removed from his belt. It was coated in a thick layer of congealed blood. “This worthless thing. It’s some kind of wire or something. That’s how he got cut. Running up to the Cornucopia to get this. I don’t know what kind of weapon it’s supposed to be. I guess you could pull off a piece and use it as a garrote or something. But really, can you imagine Beetee garroting somebody?”

But Athena knew Johanna was only pretending to be clueless. Beetee had won his Games by using a wire to electrocute six tributes at once, he was famous for it. And since the Cornucopia was otherwise filled with traditional weapons, it was no accident that this wire was there. It was for him. Which meant it was important to the mission. Athena just didn’t know how. She supposed it was Beetee’s job to know.

“He won his Games with wire. Setting up that electrical trap,” said Peeta. “It’s the best weapon he could have.”

“Seems like you’d have figured that out,” said Katniss, eyeing Johanna carefully. “Since you nicknamed him Volts and all.”

Johanna’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Yeah, that was really stupid of me, wasn’t it? I guess I must have been distracted keeping your little friends alive. While you were... what, again? Living it up over here?”

Katniss’ fingers tightened on the knife handle at her belt.

“Go ahead,” said Johanna. “Try it. I don’t care if you are knocked up, I’ll rip your throat out.”

“ _Or_ ,” Athena cut in, shooting them both pointed looks, “let’s all be smart about how we move forward from here, okay?”

“I agree,” said Finnick, who took the coil and set it on Beetee’s chest. “There’s your wire. Watch where you plug it.”

Peeta picked up a now unresisting Beetee. “Where to?”

“I’d like to go to the Cornucopia and watch,” said Finnick. “Just to make sure we’re right about the clock.”

It seemed as good of a plan as any. There were seven of them now. Even if they counted Beetee and Wiress out, there was still five good fighters between them. It was an entirely different story from her first Games, much of which she spent alone, and otherwise was only with one or two other people. Finnick had promised her that she wouldn’t be alone, she remembered, and Finnick did not lie to her.

They walked down the nearest land strip, approaching the Cornucopia with care, just in case the Careers were concealed there, though she was fairly certain the area was abandoned. Only the big golden horn and the picked-over pile of weapons remained. When Peeta laid Beete in the bit of shade the Cornucopia provided, he called out to Wiress. She crouched beside him and he put the coil of wire in her hands.

“Clean it, will you?” he asked.

Wiress nodded and scampered over to the water’s edge, where she dunked the coil in the water. She started singing some funny little song about a mouse running up a clock. It sounded like some nursery rhyme for children, but it seemed to make her happy.

“Oh, not the song again,” said Johanna, rolling her eyes. “That went on for hours before she started tick-tocking.”

Athena was of the belief that Wiress had quite earned the right to sing all the odd little songs she wanted, brilliant as she was. Before she could express this, Wiress stood up very straight and pointed to the jungle. “Two.”

Athena followed her finger to where the wall of fog had just begun to seep out onto the beach. “Yes, look, Wiress is right. It’s two o’clock, and the fog has started.”

“Like clockwork,” said Peeta. “You were very smart to figure that out, Wiress.”

Wiress smiled and went back to singing and dunking her coil.

“Oh, she’s more than smart,” said Beetee. They all turned to look at him. He seemed to be coming back to life. “She’s intuitive. She can sense things before anyone else.” Beetee looked at Katniss and Peeta. “Like a canary in one of your coal mines.”

This probably had some sort of significance, but Athena had no idea what a canary was. Neither did Finnick, it seemed, because he asked, “What’s that?”

“It’s a bird that we took down into the mines to warn us if there’s bad air,” Katniss explained.

“What’s it do, die?” asked Johanna.

“It stops singing first. That’s when you should get out. But if the air’s too bad, it dies, yes. And so do you.”

Athena thought about this. They had nothing like that in District Four, which made sense, because they didn’t really need them. It wasn’t like they went underground into the deep, dangerous, unstable mines like the ones in District Twelve. There was no real warning like the one a canary gave if it was too dangerous to be out at sea; sailors and fishermen had to judge for themselves, and if they made the wrong decision, they had to hope they’d be able to bring themselves back to the shore or else get stranded, be pulled under, and drown. She supposed there was the lighthouse for when things got really bad and sailors were out under the darkest of skies and most turbulent of waters, but sometimes the light it provided wouldn’t help sailors who were truly lost...

She’d been caught in a couple of really bad storms. They’d made it out in piece each time, but it was a terrifying thing. It served as a good reminder to Athena to never get too comfortable. Even in her own home.

Athena thought about District Four just then. About all her loved ones back home. About Hudson and all the other fishermen and sailors. She wondered if they were still lowering the amount of seafood they exported to the Capitol, she wondered if there had been any escalation in rebel activity since her departure. She wondered if Snow had decided to punish them severely for it by now. She wondered if they were safe at all. It would be so easy to sabotage them while they were on particularly turbulent waters, to make it look like an accident...

Athena turned toward the mouth of the Cornucopia and made herself focus on the weapons instead. Athena was already well-armed, though, so she didn’t need much. She swapped her spears for ones of similar weight and size but a sharper blade, grabbed another knife, and decided she was satisfied after that.

Despite her annoyance at Wiress, this was the happiest she had seen Johanna ever since they had met up again. She poked around until she came across a pair of lethal-looking axes. Johanna grinned wickedly, then threw one of the axes with such force it stuck in the sun-softened gold of the Cornucopia. Being from District Seven, with their trade being lumber, Johanna had likely been throwing around axes since she could walk. Like Athena and Finnick with their spears and their tridents. Like Beetee with his wire. Rowan Lindell and Amber Cedara had also wielded axes fiercely, too. It hadn’t saved either of them. Athena pushed it from her mind.

Athena looked over to find Peeta squatting on the ground, drawing something with the tip of his knife on a large, smooth leaf he brought in from the jungle. She looked over his shoulder and saw he was creating a map of the arena. In the center is the Cornucopia on its circle of sand with the twelve strips branching out from it. It looked like a pie sliced into twelve equal wedges. There was another circle, as well, representing the waterline and a slightly larger one indicating the edge of the jungle.

“Look how the Cornucopia’s positioned,” he said.

She examined the Cornucopia and saw what he meant. “The tail’s pointing towards twelve o’clock.”

“Exactly, so this is the top of our clock,” said Peeta, who quickly scratched the numbers one through twelve around the clock face. “Twelve to one is the lightning zone.” He wrote ‘lightning’ in tiny print in the corresponding wedge, then worked clockwise to add blood, fog, and monkeys in the following sections.

“And ten to eleven is the wave,” said Katniss, who had just joined them.

Peeta added it. Finnick and Johanna, armed to the teeth with tridents, axes, and knives, joined them at this point.

“Did you notice anything unusual in the others?” Katniss asked Johanna and Beetee. But all they saw was a lot of blood. “I guess they could hold anything.”

“I’m going to mark the ones where we know the Gamemakers’ weapon follows us out past the jungle, so we’ll stay clear of those,” said Peeta, drawing diagonal lines on the fog and wave beaches. Then he sat back. “Well, it’s a lot more than we knew this morning, anyway.”

They all nodded in agreement, quiet. It was only then that Athena noticed it. The silence. Wiress, their canary, had stopped singing.

Athena was already raising her spear as she turned, and as she did, she got a glimpse of a dripping-wet Gloss letting Wiress slide to the ground, her throat slit open in a bright red smile. Horror rising up inside her, Athena raised her spear, but just then, the point of one of Katniss’ arrows disappeared into Gloss’ right temple, and a split second later, Johanna was burying the blade of one of her axes into Cashmere’s chest. Finnick knocked away a spear Brutus threw at Peeta and ended up taking Enobaria’s knife in his thigh. Before it could cut too deep, Athena threw one of her own knives, but Enobaria moved so that it only sunk into her shoulder. Athena raised one of her spears next, taking aim, just as Katniss raised her bow. Perhaps they saw how deadly Katniss could be with her arrows, remembered the point Athena had made that she never missed with her spear, because they ducked behind the Cornucopia to shield themselves. The cannon went off three times, confirming that there was nothing they could do for Wiress and no need to worry about Cashmere and Gloss anymore. They all started rounding the horn, giving chase to Brutus and Enobaria, who were sprinting down a sand strip towards the jungle.

Out of nowhere, however, the ground jerked beneath her feet and she was flung to the sand on her side. The circle of land that held the Cornucopia began spinning so fast that she could see the jungle going by in a blur. The centrifugal force was pulling her to the water, so she dug her hands and feet into the sand, trying to find some sort of purchase on the unstable ground before she was flung into the water. She took out two knives and stuck them to the hilt into the ground, clutching onto them instead. Between the flying sand and the dizziness, Athena had to squeeze her eyes shut. There was nothing she could do except hold on until, without any sort of deceleration, they slammed to a stop.

Coughing and queasy, Athena removed her knives from the ground and pushed herself up into a sitting position slowly. Finnick, Johanna, Katniss, and Peeta had all managed to hold on. The three dead bodies had been tossed out into the water. Athena was reeling over how much had happened in such little time; everything, from the end of Wiress’ song to now, couldn't have taken more than a minute or two. They sat there panting, scraping the sand out of their mouths, until Athena became frantic at the realization that they were missing someone else.

“Where's Volts?” said Johanna, realizing that he was gone at the same time as her.

One wobbly circle around the Cornucopia confirmed that he was gone. Finnick finally spotted him twenty yards out in the water, barely keeping afloat, and swam out to haul him in; Athena was a little glad Finnick was doing it, because she still felt sort of unsteady.

At that moment, Katniss said, “Cover me,” tossed her weapons aside, and raced down one of the sand strips, the one closest to Wiress’ body. What was she doing? There was no way she thought she could save her...

Either way, Athena, Johanna, and Peeta kept a close watch on Finnick, Katniss, and Beetee, but the Careers, along with any other threat, seemed to be gone. Finnick soon brought Beetee back, thankfully alive, although a little waterlogged, sitting up and snorting up water. He had had the good sense to hang onto his glasses, so at least he could see. The hovercraft came to pick up the bodies of Wiress, Cashmere, and Gloss. Katniss returned shortly after, and when Athena saw what she held in her hands, she was immediately grateful and relieved. She brought back the wire. Wiress had been holding it when she died and apparently still hadn't lost her grip on it. Athena knew from her second examination of the Cornucopia that there wasn't another one like it; if Katniss hadn't retrieved it before the hovercraft picked up Wiress’ body, they would have been in trouble unless one of their mentors managed to send it to them as a gift. And that would've been a big if.

Katniss placed the reel of wire in his lap. It was sparkling clean now, without even a trace of blood left. He unraveled a piece of the wire and ran it through his fingers. It was the first time Athena was seeing it, and it was unlikely any wire she had ever seen. It was a pale golden colour and as fine as a strand of hair. It must have been miles long to fill the large spool. It was likely that, along with much of the Capitol’s technology, Beetee had designed this, which means he must have known a lot about it and how to use it. Athena thought about Wiress and didn't ask him about it.

Athena's heart felt heavy at the thought of Wiress, singing songs one moment and dead the next. Both Johanna and Beetee had lost their district partners now. A part of her felt glad she at least still had Finnick, unsure of what she would do in their position, but she didn't dare get too relieved or too comfortable. If she knew anything, it was that this fight was far from over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do apologise for being M.I.A. for like the past week, but sadly I was ill :(
> 
> and to make up for it, here are the remaining chapters of the story. although, knowing what comes, I wouldn't be too sure that that is a good thing... ;)


	21. XX

**XX**

 

“Let's get off this fucking island,” Johanna said finally, breaking the silence that was suspended between them.

This seemed a good plan to everyone, especially considering the way the island had been spinning so rapidly only moments ago. There was only the matter of their weapons now, which they had largely managed to retain. Fortunately, the vines here were strong, and the spile and tube of medicine were still tied securely to Katniss’ belt. Finnick took a moment to tend to the knife wound Enobaria had left in his thigh. It bleeding some, and there was a bit of pain, but it wasn't bad. Athena had managed to stop Enobaria before she could cut him too deeply. He stripped off his undershirt and tied it around the wound Enobaria’s knife made in his thigh. Beetee thought he could walk now, as long as they went slowly, so Katniss helped him up. They decided to head to the beach at twelve o’clock, which should provide them hours of calm and keep them away from any poisonous residue from the fog.

Finnick glanced around him, wondering where the the twelve-to-one-o’clock wedge actually _was_. The tail of the Cornucopia had pointed to twelve o’clock originally, but the Gamemakers had spun the Cornucopia around specifically to throw them off. It was unlikely they would stop the Cornucopia in the exact same place it had been in originally. Finnick looked up at the sky; from the looks of it, it was about four o’clock. Using the sun as his guide, Finnick stepped forward, but Johanna and Peeta headed off in two other directions.

“Twelve o’clock, right?” said Peeta. “The tail points at twelve.”

“It did before they spun us,” said Finnick. “I was judging by the sun.”

“The sun only tells you it's going on four, Finnick,” said Katniss.

“I think Katniss’ point is, knowing the time doesn't necessarily mean knowing where four is on the clock,” said Beetee. “You might have a general idea of direction. Unless you consider that they may have shifted the outer ring of the jungle as well.”

Finnick got the impression that Beetee had gone beyond what Katniss was thinking, but the latter still nodded and said, “Yes, so any one of these paths could lead to twelve o’clock.”

They circled the Cornucopia, scrutinizing the jungle. It had a baffling uniformity to it. He remembered the tall tree that took the first lightning strike at twelve o’clock, but every sector had a similar tree. Johanna suggested following Brutus’ and Enobaria's tracks, but they had been blown or washed away. There was no way to know where anything was, no trail to follow.

 _You really didn't want to make this easy, huh, Plutarch?_ Finnick thought.

But this probably made for good television for the Capitol, which he realised was still a concern for Plutarch as Head Gamemaker, secret rebel or not.

“We should've never said anything about the clock,” Katniss said bitterly. “Now they've taken that advantage away as well.”

“Only temporarily. At ten, we'll see the wave hit and be back on track,” Beetee said, which was true.

“Yeah, they can't redesign the whole arena,” Peeta added, which was probably true as well.

“It doesn't matter,” Johanna said impatiently. “You had to tell us or we would've never moved our camp in the first place, brainless.”

This was also true, albeit demeaning, and seemed to be the only thing that made Katniss feel any better. Johanna pressed on.

“Come on, I need water. Anyone got a good gut feeling?”

They really didn't have anything solid to go off of, so they just chose a random path and took it, having no idea what number they were approaching. When they reached the jungle, they peered into it, trying to decipher what might be inside.

“Well, it must be monkey hour,” said Peeta. “And I don't see any of them in there. I'm going to try and tap a tree.”

Finnick didn't like the idea of Peeta going into the jungle alone without being certain there was no threat from within, so he said, “It's my turn to do it.”

“I'll at least watch your back,” said Peeta.

“Katniss can do that,” said Johanna. “We need you to draw a map. The other one washed away.”

She yanked a large leaf off a tree and handed it to him. That seemed to decide things; Finnick led the way fifteen yards into the jungle, with Katniss following behind him, while the others stayed behind at the beach. He found a good tree and began making a hole with a knife. Katniss guarded him, her weapons at the ready.

Had this been a day ago, he would have suspected she would have used this moment with her back turned to try and kill him. Now, he wasn't so concerned. She and Johanna were on thin ice, but Katniss seemed void of any desire to try and kill Finnick or Athena. He wondered how long this would last. Not that it would need to last particularly long, with the rescue mission being the next night, but still. There were fifteen tributes dead already. That left another nine tributes, and six of them were all together. There was still the threat of Brutus, Enobaria, and whoever else was still out there, but how long until Katniss started to think that only people that stood between Peeta becoming the victor were the ones among her? Once those thoughts started crossing her mind, Finnick didn't know if there was any reversing it. Peeta would probably be on the same boat as Katniss, wanting to keep her safe above anything else. Johanna wouldn't be able to de-escalate any of the tension, because she was Johanna. Beetee might be able to present them with such a great, solid, logical plan that it seemed foolish to do anything else. And Athena, if no one else, could probably find away to cool things down, diffuse the tension just long enough for the rescue mission to be executed.

Finnick finished making a hole deep enough in the tree as he came to this conclusion, held out a hand, and said, “Katniss, got that spile?”

Katniss, who seemed to be coming off her own train of thought, extracted the spile from the vine and held it out.

That was when the screaming started.

It sounded like it belonged to a young girl, which didn't make sense, since Katniss and Peeta were the youngest people in the arena at seventeen, and neither of them were screaming. Finnick didn't recognize the voice, but Katniss seemed to, because she dropped the spile and took off immediately into a run in the direction of the noise.

“Katniss!” Finnick called out, trying to reach out to her to stop her.

But Katniss ignored him and was out of reach before he could grab her. She ran wildly in the direction of the voice, heedless of danger, ripping through branches and vines, through anything that kept her from the source of the noise. Cursing under his breath, he tightened his hold on his knife, grabbed hold on one of his tridents, and took off after her. Katniss was moving fast, but she left a clear trail for him to follow, so that he wasn't that far behind.

“Prim? Prim!” she cried out, several yards in front of him. “Prim!”

It took Finnick a moment to remember who Prim was. Katniss’ younger sister. The girl she volunteered for last year. But that made no sense. Why would she be in the arena? How would she have gotten here? But there was the sound of Prim letting out another agonizing scream, and he could hear Katniss quicken his pace, so he did too, chasing after her. Finnick finally found her in a small clearing, wiping one of her arrows clean with some moss, looking shaken but unharmed.

“Katniss?”

Sensing his concern, she said, “It’s okay. I'm okay. I thought I heard my sister, but - ”

She was cut off by another pained scream. It didn’t sound like Katniss’ sister, though. It sounded older, much older. And horribly familiar. It was a lower pitch, rougher and weaker. Mags.

“Finnick, wait - ” Katniss began urgently.

Finnick was already gone, though, crashing through the trees, sprinting towards Mags, wherever she was. Fear filled him up, clawing at his throat as he ran as fast as he could through the jungle. He kept calling out her name, hoping he’d get some sort of response back. All that would happen was that Mags would let out another cry of pain, calling out for Finnick desperately.

Was this a second chance? A chance to bring her back, to save her? Maybe she never had been dead, maybe she was here for some reason instead... either way, he could save her, he could protect her, if he could just find her...

“Mags? MAGS!”

But there was no reply this time, not even another scream. A bird with black feathers and a white crest fell to the ground somewhere to his left. Sticking out of it was one of Katniss’ arrows. He didn’t understand why she felt the need to kill the bird, but Finnick paid it no mind. He was breathing hard, his sweat stinging his still-healing scabs, listening closely for any sign of Mags. It didn’t come. The silence, save for the sounds of Katniss trying to catch up to him, gave him time to think. He was hearing Mags, Mags in pain, Mags calling out to him, Mags needing his help. But that made no sense. Mags was dead. Athena had seen her die. The only way this could be happening was if Mags hadn’t actually been killed. But that wasn't right. Athena had seen it happen, and she wouldn't lie to him, nor would she say Mags was dead if she wasn't absolutely certain.

He was trying to figure out how, then, he was hearing Mags screaming, when another piercing scream filled the air, screaming for Finnick to help her. It was not Mags this time. Finnick tensed, and fear seemed to replace everything in his body so that there was nothing left inside him. What happened to her? How had she gotten from the beach to the depths of the jungle? He didn't know. He didn't care. There would be time for questions later, when she was safe. When Athena was safe.

He tore through the jungle, sprinting after the source of screams. He had to get to her, he had to get to her, he could not let her die. “Athena? Athena! Where are you? ATHENA!”

“FINNICK!” she screamed back, her voice despairing.

The sounds she was making, the pain in every noise, filled him with dread. What could they possibly be doing her to make her sound like _that?_ He would stop it. He had to stop it. He had to, but every time he seemed to be drawing close to her at last, she moved further away from him, still letting out piercing screams, calling to him for help. When Finnick thought the situation couldn’t get any more awful, he heard another voice screaming, her voice cracking as she shrieked for him to help her. Annie. He forced his legs to propel him even faster towards their voices, their screams mingling together horribly, echoing in his mind.

When he at last seemed close, he came to an abrupt stop. Listening closely. He heard their voices, those terrible, terrible screams and shouts and cries, coming from above him. He looked up ahead and saw nothing but the leaves and branches and vines above, but there was no denying that they were here. Specifically, the sounds seemed to be coming from a giant tree.

He began circling the tree desperately, trying to find some way to climb it, screaming, “Athena! Annie! _Athena!_ ”

He was only dimly aware of Katniss crashing into the sight, observing the scene before her, and beginning to scale the adjacent tree. He was still calling out to Athena and Annie and trying to find some way to help them, when the sound of Athena’s screaming stopped abruptly. Terror coursed through Finnick, but no cannon came, the way it would’ve if Athena was dead. A split second later, Annie’s screams stopped suddenly as well. And two birds, the same species as the dead bird he had seen earlier, came falling from the tree, one after the other, landing at his feet. One of Katniss’ arrows were sticking out of each of their chests. There was quiet now, except for rustling noises as Katniss came back to the ground.

Slowly, Finnick bent down to pick up one of the dead birds, though he was already starting to realize what was happening. A black bird with a white crest. It wasn’t just any bird, it was a jabberjays. Jabberjays were muttations that consisted of all male birds that were able to mimic noises perfectly, capable of memorizing and repeating entire human conversations. It had been created by the Capitol during the Dark Days as a way of spying on the rebels, but it had backfired when the rebels just started feeding the birds false information. After, the Capitol had released them all into the wild to die, though most of them had mated with mockingbirds to make what were now known as mockingjays. But clearly, some of them remained. Those awful, lifelike noises had been coming from these birds. Not Mags or Athena or Annie.

“It’s alright, Finnick,” Katniss said. “It’s just a jabberjay. They’re playing a trick on us. It’s not real. Athena’s fine, she’s at the beach still. And that wasn’t your... your mentor or your friend.”

Her words were meant to comfort him, but Finnick did not feel better. If anything, he felt worse. Jabberjays mimicked sounds they had already heard. They copied. That was what they were meant to do. They couldn’t make human noises they had never heard before. If they were letting out all those awful screams, they had to have heard it from somewhere.

“No, it’s not them. But the voices were theirs. Jabberjays mimic what they hear. Where did they get those screams, Katniss?”

Finnick could actually see Katniss’ pupils dilate with fear. “Oh, Finnick, you don’t think they...?”

“Yes. I do. That’s exactly what I think.”

She sunk to the ground, falling on her knees. Her mind was likely running through scenarios of the Capitol torturing her sister. His mind ran through all the ways the Capitol might have been hurting Mags and Annie, perhaps at that very moment or at some point before they killed Mags... as terrible as it was, as much as it broke him, there was nothing he could do for them here. But Athena... he had heard her scream, too. He needed to make sure she was still alive and well, that they had not hurt her without him knowing about it...

He was going to express this to Katniss when another bird started up somewhere to their left. This time, it was a boy’s voice that was unfamiliar to him, but apparently familiar to Katniss, who leapt to her feet and was about to start running, but this time Finnick caught her arm in time.

“No. It’s not him,” he said, and began pulling her downhill, toward the beach. They needed to get away from these birds, he needed to see Athena... “We’re getting out of here!” But the boy’s voice was full of so much pain she still struggled to reach it, to free herself from his grasp. “It’s not him, Katniss! It’s not him! It’s a mutt!” Finnick shouted over the jabberjay’s lifelike imitations. “Come on!”

Still, Katniss struggled, so he moved her along, half-dragging, half-carrying her, until she finally processed what he said and realized he was right. She stopped struggling against him, and like last night in the fog, they fled from what they couldn’t fight, from what could only hurt them, though this time it was his heart that felt like it was disintegrating instead of his body. This was the weapon of the hour. Four o’clock, he supposed. When the hands tick-tocked onto the four, the monkeys went home and the jabberjays came out to play instead. There was no parachute that Haymitch could send in that could help either himself or Katniss recover from these particular wounds. There was nothing at all except to run, to see if Athena really was -

He didn’t let himself finish. He made himself run faster instead.

The treeline came into sight. Peeta and Beetee were there. And a split second later, sprinting into sight, followed by Johanna, was Athena. And there she was, looking terrified and anxious and for some reason soaking wet, but otherwise alive and well, her eyes glued to him. Relief flooded through him, and confusion, too, because he didn’t understand where they got the sound of Athena screaming if she wasn’t injured. And through it all, he also felt angry. How had they all let Finnick and Katniss stay there, thinking that their loved ones were being tortured in the arena? Why hadn’t they come after them? Why had Athena let him believe she was in danger? Even now, they were hanging back, their hands raised, their palms toward them, their lips moving but no words reaching them. Why?

They ran right into the reason why. The wall was so transparent that Finnick and Katniss ran smack into it and bounced back onto the jungle floor. Katniss’ shoulder took the worst of the impact, but Finnick hit the jungle floor face first and his nose promptly began gushing blood. This was why they hadn’t come to their aid. An invisible barrier blocked the area in front of them. It wasn’t the same as a force field. They could touch the smooth, hard surface all they liked; but Athena’s spear, Johana’s ax, and Peeta’s knife all couldn’t make a dent in it. Finnick knew, without checking more than a few feet to one side, that it enclosed the entire four-to-five-o’clock wedge. They were trapped there like rats until the hour passed.

Finnick leaned back into a tree, tipped his head forward, and pinched his nose to try and stop the bleeding. He kept his eyes fixed on Athena, who was staring right back at him, wide-eyed and clearly trying to look reassuring for him. She signed an apology to him. He wasn’t angry anymore, though. There was nothing she could have done, and he didn’t want her to have to hear all those horrible screams of the ones she loved, either. In any case, as long as he could see her, could make sure that she was okay, he would be fine. He had no idea what they had done or were doing to Mags and Annie, but as long as he could see that Athena was safe, he could make it through the hour.

That was what he thought, at least, until the birds arrived. They came one by one, perching in the surrounding branches until hordes of them were perched all around them. And, with that, a carefully orchestrated chorus of horror began spilling out of their mouths. Finnick knew better than to try and fight it. He gave in at once, hunching on the ground and clenching his hands over his ears, so hard he might have crushed his skull. He could still hear the noises, almost painfully clear, and wished he could crush his skulls with his hands then and there and end it. And even though he knew Athena was on the other side of that barrier, that she was fine, the sound of her screaming in pain, sounding tortured, desperately calling for him to save her, seemingly multiplied with every bird that arrived, pushed him past the point of insanity. With her voice came Annie’s again, then Mags, his mother and father, his Aunt Marena, Calypso and Marella Maris, his fellow victors back home in Four, everyone he’d ever killed, Hudson, even Genevieve Moselle... their screams of excruciating pain mingled together, seeming to surround him at all sides, until soon it felt like they were coming from inside him and he would never escape it...

It took several moments for it to register that familiar gentle hands were touching him, trying to pull him back up, but when he felt them at last, he knew it was finally over. He let himself be lifted from the ground, let Athena lead him out of the jungle. He wanted to open his eyes, wanted to move his hands away from his ears, wanted to look at her and hear her properly, but he couldn’t move. His muscles were too rigid to release. It was as if the fog had hit him again, taking away any control he had over his muscles.

He felt Athena sit him down on the sand, leaning him against the bark of one of the trees at the edge of the jungle. He still couldn’t move. He felt frozen. Everything felt too silent now, and he could still hear those screams echoing in his head, rattling inside his mind. Her fingers ran along his arms, her touch gentle and soothing, calming him down slowly until he could finally move his arms from his ears, resting them at his sides. His muscles were still tense, though. Her hands slid into his immediately. They were rough from the scabs, but they were definitely hers, the same size and shape and warmth to them. He opened his eyes slowly.

She was there, sitting closely in front of him, real and alive and breathing, though the concern on her face was evident as she held onto his hands tightly. Slowly, gradually, he felt himself come back to life, feel a little less hollow. He did not care about the scabs, she was still the most beautiful person he had ever seen in his life, so beautiful and so alive and so real, solid beneath his fingers as he moved his hands to touch her arms, as though verifying she was really there. He thought he ought to say something, but he couldn’t speak. She did it instead.

“It’s okay, Finnick.”

“You didn’t hear them,” Finnick whispered, his voice raw and rough and quiet. He hadn’t realized he’d been yelling while he was stuck with the jabberjays, but that was the only explanation for how faint his voice was.

“I heard Katniss’ sister in the beginning,” said Athena. He became aware of Katniss and Peeta in the distance, the former sitting in the latter’s lap while he soothed her. “In the very beginning, before we realized what was going on. Nothing else, though.”

"I heard you,” he told her. “You, Mags, Annie, your mother and sister, my parents, my aunt, everyone back home, everyone I’ve killed... and you... I thought... I heard you... it sounded like you were in pain... you were screaming...”

“That wasn’t real,” she said firmly, taking his hands in hers again. “Nothing you heard was real.”

“Jabberjays copy,” he said weakly. “They copy what they’ve already heard... and I heard you... I heard you - ”

“It wasn’t real,” she said again, as if she might convince him if she just said it enough times. “They fabricated it. Or if not, then they took the audio from something I said and distorted it. I’m sure there’s enough recordings of me saying your name. Maybe they took it from my first Games. I almost blew up in that arena, so it probably wasn’t that hard to find material of me in pain. Or they took it from an interview or something and just distorted it. Either way, I’m fine. It’s okay, none of it was real. Really, I’m okay. I’m here now.”

She moved one of her hands to stroke his hair, pushing it back from his forehead soothingly. He wanted so very badly to believe her, her words and her tone were convincing, but he could not let it go. What she was saying wasn’t making full sense to him, the words getting jumbled up in his mind.

“But the others... they’re torturing... the others, they’re probably - they’re probably - ”

His voice broke. He couldn’t finish his sentence. She seemed to understand immediately, though, and shook her head.

“They’re not all dead. That’s what they want you to think, but they’re not. How could they be dead? Think about it. We’re almost at the final eight tributes. What happens when we reach the final eight?”

“Seven more of us die,” he said blankly, unable to think.

“Well... yes, but what happens back home?” Athena said. “When we get to the final eight tributes, what do they do back home in the districts?” She seemed to be able to tell that his mind wasn’t working quite right. She took his face in her hands gently, made him look her in the eyes. She was trying to make her voice calm, clear, and soothing for his sake. “What happens, Finnick? At final eight?”

She was trying to help him, trying to guide him somewhere good, so he forced himself to think.

“At final eight,” he murmured, the gears in his brain beginning to turn again. “At final eight... they interview your family and friends back home.”

“Exactly,” she said with a nod. “They interview your family and friends. Which means right about now, the Capitol’s gearing up to go to District Four to interview everyone that’s closest to us. That means Annie, my mother and Calypso, everyone in Victor’s Village, Hudson... they can’t do that if they’re all dead, can they?”

“No?” said Finnick, but even as he said something he knew to be a fact, he couldn’t keep the uncertainty out of his voice.

“No,” she repeated firmly. “Which means they’re not dead. They’re alive. I know it.”

The others had been listening intently to their conversation. Katniss, who had been fixated on Athena’s words, turned to look at Peeta.

“Do you think that means Prim’s alive?” she said desperately.

“I know it does,” Peeta said. “Think about it. First Prim. Then your mother. Your cousin, Gale. Madge. It was just a trick, Katniss. A horrible one, but we’re the only ones who can be hurt by it. We’re the ones in the Games. Not them.”

“You really believe that?”

“I really do.”

Katniss still looked uncertain and looked over at Finnick for some sort of confirmation. “Do you believe it?”

He was not sure what he believed. Peeta, Finnick had learned from his interviews, had a way of making anyone believe anything, and he was well aware of the fact that Athena could talk him into or out of anything. But Athena would never lie to him, would not tell him they were okay unless she was certain of it. Still, he needed confirmation.

“It could be true,” he said finally. “I don’t know. Could they do that, Beetee? Take someone’s regular voice and make it...”

“Oh, yes,” Beetee said at once, eyeing him sympathetically. “It’s not even that difficult, Finnick. Our children learn a similar technique in school.”

“Of course they’re right,” Johanna said flatly. “The whole country adores Katniss’ little sister. If they really killed her like this, they’d probably have an uprising. Forget the districts, there would be riots in the damn Capitol. Don’t want that, do they?” She threw her head back and shouted, “Hey, how does that sound, Snow? What if we set _your_ background on fire? Whole country in rebellion? Wouldn’t want anything like that! You know, _you can’t put everybody in here!_ ”

Finnick, even in his numbed, hollow state, had to take moment to be surprised. No one ever said anything like this in the Games. Not where it could be recorded and broadcasted to the Capitol. No doubt they were cutting away from Johanna, editing her out. But they all heard her. Her actions could really only be described as brave or insane. Perhaps both. She picked up some shells and headed towards the jungle.

“I’m getting water,” she said.

Katniss caught her hand as she passed. “Don’t go in there. The birds - ”

“They can’t hurt me. I’m not like the rest of you. There’s no one left that I love,” Johanna said, and freed her hand with an impatient shake.

Johanna had been like Finnick - almost, anyway. For a time, President Snow simply threatened Johanna with the possibility of selling her body to wealthy Capitol citizens, like he did with Athena. But then it stopped being a possibility and started to become a reality, Snow presenting her a list of wealthy Capitol citizens who all wished to spend a night or several with her. Johanna refused. Snow told her to agree or face the consequences. Johanna didn’t bend. Johanna’s family and friends in District Seven were gone now. Finnick and Athena were, really, the only friends she had left. And Finnick and Athena knew better than to ever even entertain refusing President Snow.

Finnick’s eyes slid back over to Athena. She was still there, still real, still alive. She leaned forward and kissed his forehead, and he leaned into her touch immediately, his eyes fluttering closed momentarily. She pulled away far too soon, and when she did, she murmured an ‘I love you,’ so quiet he almost missed it, before leaning back. She stroked his hair soothingly, before moving to take his hands in hers again.

“You believe me now?” she asked gently, a whisper so low only he could hear, like it was just for them, the way a lot of things were just for them(partially out of necessity). “You believe that they’re okay?”

Slowly, he nodded. He meant it. She smiled at him. He felt a little lighter.

“Good,” she said, brought his hands to her lips, and kissed along his fingers gently. Finnick felt his muscles relax just slightly. “Come on. You should get cleaned up.”

To his complete and utter relief, she didn’t let go of his hand even after she helped pull him up to his feet. He followed her numbly to the seawater.

No sooner had he sat down in the water was Johanna calling out, “Hey, Maris? Do you mind giving me some backup?”

Athena looked down at Finnick. She looked reluctant to leave him. The birds were gone now, though. She’d be okay over there.

“It’s okay,” he said at once, though he wasn’t sure it was. “I’m okay,” he added, though he knew he wasn’t. “Go ahead.”

She hesitated a split second longer, before nodding. She leaned down to kiss the top of his head quickly, before leaving him alone to repeat her words that proved that everyone they loved back home was okay over and over in his mind, and get a better hold of himself.

 

*

 

“You know, it’s not really back up if you’re looking at the one person that isn’t a threat.”

Athena tore her eyes away from Finnick at Johanna’s voice. She hadn’t even looked up from her spile but seemed to be able to tell that she’d been staring at him the whole time.

“Sorry,” Athena said, making herself stand up straighter and clutch her spear more tightly in her hand, trying to look more guard-like.

Johanna didn’t look mad. “Whatever. I’ll only be pissed if I die. Then I’m coming back and haunting you.”

“That’s fair.”

There was a silence. Johanna was filling shells with water and handing them to Athena, who eventually had to put her spear in her belt to carry them. Neither of them were that worried, though. There didn’t seem to be any threats nearby. The jabberjays were long gone now, too, from the looks of it. A part of Athena wished she could kill them all, just for how badly they had affected Finnick and Katniss. The rest of her just hoped none of them would ever have to encounter one again. She tried to imagine what it would be like to have hear the screams of everyone she had ever loved, everyone who ever weighed heavy on her conscience, and had to push it from her mind before she became too affected by the mere thought. She had to admire Finnick and Katniss for being even remotely functional. She would go mad, surely...

When Johanna was filling the fourth shell, she spoke, breaking the silence between them.

“He really does love you. More than his own life. And you love him. You should be careful.”

Athena raised her eyebrows. They both knew who she meant by ‘he.’ “Careful?”

“Careful,” she repeated firmly. “It’s something dangerous, what you two are doing.”

Athena said nothing. She knew what Johanna meant, of course. But loving Finnick did not feel dangerous. It felt like the safest thing in the world. It was the rest of the world that was dangerous.

“You’re the boss,” Athena said finally.

Johanna smirked. “Fucking right I am. And one thing I learned from living this life and watching the two of you,” she was saying, “never fall in love with someone who loves you more than their own life. Increases mortality rate way too much for me to deal with.”

Before Athena could think of something to say to that, Johanna finished filling up the shells with water, and they went around giving everyone a shell to to drink from, returning the spile to Katniss. They couldn’t do much else beside drink before a cannon blast brought them all together on the beach. A hovercraft appeared in what they estimated to be the six-to-seven-o’clock zone. They watched as the claw dipped down five different times to retrieve the pieces of one body, torn apart. It was impossible to tell who it was. Athena did not ever want to find out what happened at six o’clock.

Peeta drew a new map on a leaf, adding a ‘JJ’ for jabberjays in the four-to-five-o’clock section and simply writing beast in the one where they saw the tribute collected in pieces. They now had a good idea of what seven of twelve hours would bring. And the one positive that came out of the jabberjay attack was that they now knew where they were on the clock face again.

Finnick began weaving yet another water basket and a net for fishing. She suspected he was using weaving as a replacement for the length of rope he didn’t have. She figured there were worse ways to cope. Athena felt her skin start to itch again, so she put more ointment on it. Afterward, she sat at the edge of the water, cleaning the fish Finnick caught, moving much faster now that he had a net, and watching the sun drop below the horizon. The bright moon was already rising, filling the arena with that strange twilight. They were about to settle down to eat their meal of raw fish when the anthem began. And then the faces...

Cashmere. Gloss. Wiress. Vida Foster. Casey. Apollo. Blight. Seven dead. Plus the eight from last night. Almost two thirds of the tributes were gone in less than two full days. That had to be a record. Athena tried not to think about it. Instead, she got to her feet, walked to the tree line, and worked on carving a space for each of the seven fallen tributes. Beetee and even Johanna said nothing about it when she sat down, taking her hair back out of its bun and running a hand through the knots idly. Maybe they were glad something had been done for their now deceased district partners.

“They’re really burning through us,” said Johanna finally.

“Who’s left?” Finnick asked. “Besides us six and District Two?”

“Chaff,” said Peeta, without thinking about it. It seemed he’d been keeping track of Chaff, perhaps because of his friendship with Haymitch.

At that moment, a parachute came down with a pile of bite-sized square-shaped rolls.

“These are from your district, right, Beetee?” asked Peeta.

“Yes, from District Three,” he said. “How many are there?”

Finnick counted them, turning each one over in his hand before setting it in a neat configuration. “Twenty-four.”

“An even two dozen, then?” Beetee asked carefully.

“Twenty-four on the nose,” Finnick said, giving him a significant look.

District Three. Twenty-four rolls. Day Three. Hour twenty-four. This seemed to be a hint, confirmation that the rescue mission would go down on the agreed upon time. They were not turning back.

“How should we divide them?”

“Let’s each have three, and whoever is still alive at breakfast can take a vote on the rest,” said Johanna. Athena grinned.

They waited until the giant wave had flooded out of the ten-to-eleven-o’clock section, waited for the water to recede, then went to that part of the beach to make camp. Theoretically, they should have a full twelve hours of safety from the jungle. There was an unpleasant chorus of clicking, probably from some type of horrible insect, coming from the eleven-to-twelve-o’clock wedge. But whatever was making the sound stayed within the confines of the jungle and they kept off that part of the beach in case they were waiting for a carelessly placed footfall to swarm out.

It wasn’t surprising when Johanna was the first to fall asleep, since she had only had an hour of sleep since the Games started. Katniss and Peeta offered to take the first watch, so Athena, Finnick, and Beetee all stretched out as well. Finnick lied down perhaps a little closer to her than could be explained away easily, but Athena made no protest because she didn’t want to be away from him. Johanna’s voice, telling her to be careful, was ringing in her head. She was going to bring it up to Finnick when she drifted off to sleep.

Athena woke up abruptly, and she thought at first it was her nightmares that chased her back into consciousness, but it was actually the first crack of the lightning storm - the bolt hitting the tree at midnight. It roused Finnick from his sleep, too, bolting upright and letting out a sharp cry. She felt an increased pressure on her hand, looked down, and saw that he was squeezing her hand. They must have been holding hands while they slept. Whatever Finnick had been dreaming about, it had been bad, because it took him several moments to realize that wherever he had been in his nightmares wasn’t real. When he did, he too looked down at their joined hands. For a moment, they just stared at their intertwined hands, before looking up at each other and ripping their hands away from each other. Athena’s face felt warm. Katniss and Peeta were looking at them, for one thing; they’d given them odd, inquisitive looks when Athena comforted him after the jabberjay attacks, and this probably didn’t make them seem any more platonic. She felt frightened by more than that, though; had any part of this been broadcasted? Surely the Gamemakers would know to cut to somewhere else? If the Capitol had seen it, what would they make of it? If they thought of the two of them as anything more than friends...

The same sort of thoughts seemed to be running though Finnick’s mind, but he merely turned to Katniss and Peeta and said, as calmly as he could, “I can’t sleep anymore. One of you should rest.” He then noticed their expressions, the way they were wrapped around each other. “Or both of you. I can watch alone.”

Athena was going to volunteer to help, but then thought better of it. It would probably be better if she and Finnick were away from each other. And before she could say anything, anyway, Peeta was saying, “It’s too dangerous. I’m not tired. You lie down, Katniss.”

He led her to where the others were and put some sort of locket around her neck. She recognized it after a moment as the locket Peeta had revealed to be wearing when Finnick pulled down his jumpsuit to revive him after he hit the force field. Peeta rested his hand over Katniss’ abdomen.

“You’re going to make a great mother, you know,” he said, kissed her, and went back to Finnick.

For a split second, Athena felt deeply envious of them, of the way they could show love and affection in front of anyone without so much as a second thought. What Athena wouldn’t give to not have to carefully think through every part of any public interaction with Finnick to ensure it couldn’t be misconstrued, to not have to second guess every touch, every glance that lasted too long... but that wasn’t fair either. She knew that. They hadn’t asked for this anymore than she had.

Athena lied back down, curling into a ball. She shut her eyes and willed herself to rest. When she finally drifted off to sleep, she dreamed she was out of the arena. She was walking somewhere with her arm linked with her father’s. She was overjoyed at the sight of him, but confused as to how he got there. She opened her mouth to speak - maybe to ask how or why he was here, maybe to tell him she loved him over and over to make up for the way she couldn’t before he died - but he shook his head and brought a finger to his lips, before pointing somewhere ahead of him. She followed the line of his finger and saw that Finnick was standing there, dressed in a suit. He was beaming at her. The sight of him made her heart lift, but she was still confused.

She looked around her; they seemed to be in some grand, lavishly decorated hall. There were people all around her that she didn’t recognize, staring at her. Where were her mother and sister? Why would her father be here and not them? Was he actually not alive again, the way she had initially thought he was? Was she dead? Was Finnick? She turned to ask her father, suddenly frantic, but again, her father merely put a finger to his lips, shook his head, and this time just pointed at her. She looked down at herself and saw that she was in a beautiful white gown. She only put it together when she was right in front of Finnick and the familiar net of woven grass was placed over them that this was a wedding. That this was _their_ wedding, her and Finnick’s.

Athena wanted to just give into the happiness she felt, to allow this all to happen, but this made no sense. There was no way she and Finnick could ever get married. They couldn’t even hold hands in public without her fearing for their safety and the safety of everyone they cared about. How could this be happening? How could Snow let this be happening? As if on cue, at the thought of Snow’s name, Athena looked at the gathered crowd. She didn’t know how she could have possibly missed him before, but Snow was standing at the very front, gazing at her with one of his twisted smiles.

“Oh, Miss Maris,” Snow said, “didn’t I warn you about straying too far from the harbour?”

Athena looked back forward, unable to hold his gaze, but Finnick was gone now. And so was her father. And so was everyone else in that hall except for Snow. It was only the two of them now. Her dress turned to a hospital gown, and the net that was still covering her began to tighten around her, something similar to a straitjacket. Athena tried to free herself, thrashing against it, but the net only tightened around her and she only got more tangled in it. Eventually, she went crashing to the floor, thrashing uselessly against the net.

Footsteps echoed across the now empty hall. The decorations had disappeared, the paint stripped away to reveal only white on all sides. Snow appeared above her, his twisted smile stretching wider across his puffed-up lips.

“It seems we both have much to learn still, don’t we? Don’t we, Athena? Athena? Athena! _Athena!_ ”

Athena awoke with a start, still thrashing about wildly. She stopped quickly when she realized she was still in the arena, panting like she had just run for miles. There was no net around her, no restraints keeping her down. She was free to move all she liked. Finnick (still there, not in a suit, not dressed to get married) and Peeta were hovering over her, concern on their faces, and she realized they must have been the ones calling her name over and over again. Not Snow.

“Are you okay?” Finnick asked, concerned.

“Yeah,” she said quickly, sitting up straight, keeping a vice-like grip on her spear, still on edge. “Yeah, I'm fine.”

“You looked really shaken up,” Peeta said with a frown. “You kept thrashing around and muttering things...”

“I'm fine,” she said again, though she was mortified about the sort of things she must have been saying. “Fine. It was just a dream, it's not real.” They were still looking at her in concern, so she made herself speak again. “I'm not tired anymore. One of you can sleep, I'll take watch. Or you both can, if you’re tired. I’ll be fine alone.”

But Finnick was shaking his head, “No, there should be at least two of us at this point. Peeta, you can sleep, you’ve been up longer.”

Peeta didn’t argue, walking over to where Katniss was and stretching out next to her. Athena got up slowly and stretched her limbs, as though to make sure that they really weren’t being held down by some invisible restraints, before sitting down in the water. It was still dark, but she could see the sun beginning to peek out just slightly over the horizon. She took a handful of the seawater and washed her face. It helped clear her head. Seconds later, Finnick was sitting down beside her. For a time, they were silent.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked finally.

Athena thought about it. After everything, she most certainly could not say that she had dreamt the two of them were getting married, even if it was just a dream that turned into a nightmare and even if it never ended up actually happening. There was always sign language, but she wasn’t sure if there was any use in talking about it, especially when she could barely make sense of the things she had seen.

“It barely made sense,” she shrugged, running her fingers through the water, watching the ripples it made. “It was just... a bunch of the things I’m scared of all thrown together... what kind of stuff was I saying?”

“Nothing incriminating, if that’s what you’re worried about,” he said. “You kept... it sounded like you were talking to your father. You kept calling for him. And then you said my name a few times, like you were confused, then like you were... like you were scared. And then after you just kept saying no over and over again.”

The Capitol probably wouldn’t make anything of Athena saying Finnick’s name in her sleep, especially if she’d been saying her father’s name beforehand and, as Finnick was saying, looked as scared as she felt. It was likely they would just take it as concern for her friend and district partner.

Athena nodded, laughing mirthlessly as she said, “That probably sums up a good chunk of it.”

“And you’re okay now?”

“Now that I know it’s not real, yes,” she said, though she didn’t know for sure if that was true. She paused, before glancing at him sideways and saying, “What about you? Good now? From the - ”

“Same as you,” he said, not needing her to elaborate. “Fine now that I know it wasn’t - that they’re not actually - I’m good.” He paused. “I’m sorry I was so out of it. I shouldn’t have lost my head like that, I should’ve known better - ”

“You don’t have to apologize,” she said, frowning. “No one blames you, especially not me. I can’t even imagine what I would’ve done if I had to hear all those things. I nearly lost my head and I wasn’t even in there.”

He looked surprised. “You did?”

“Well, yeah,” she said. “I knew whatever you and Katniss were hearing, it must’ve been horrible, and I couldn’t do anything. And then when you guys were right there, and I had to watch you guys listen to it knowing I couldn’t just pull you out or kill all the birds or... anything, really. It was driving me insane. When you were gone, Johanna saw me panicking about it, picked me up, and threw me into the water to get me to calm down. You gave her ideas.” Finnick laughed at that, and Athena grinned, pleased. “Even if I wasn’t freaking out, though, you have nothing to apologize for. I get it.”

Finnick smiled at her, a genuine smile that brought out the dimples that always brought about that warm, pleasant feeling in her stomach. He leaned back a little, one of his hands going underwater, resting on the sand, the palm turned upwards. An invitation. Athena took it, as subtly as she could, holding his hand again. His touch was a welcome one, but it reminded her of Johanna’s words.

“Johanna says we should be... careful,” she said finally.

“Careful,” he repeated. “I guess that’s always good advice, considering where we are. Did something in particular bring that about?”

“It was right after the jabberjays.”

He didn’t need any further explanation. Athena had been so caught up in her worry and Finnick had been too badly affected by the attack that they hadn’t been careful about the way they acted with each other, hadn’t stopped be to sure their actions were strictly platonic. Now that they had had the time to think rationally, they both knew they had been careless. Far too careless.

“Right,” he said. “Well, at least we know better now. And it won’t be long now anyway. With how many people are already dead, I mean.”

Athena nodded, though she knew he really meant the mission, which was now less than twenty-four hours away. “We’re already at the final nine.”

“It won’t be long before things start going left,” he pointed out.

“I’ve realized that too,” she said. “Let’s hope Beetee figures out something good first.”

In unison, they looked behind them. Johanna, Katniss, and Peeta were all still asleep, but Beetee had begun to rise. He was fiddling with the wire again.

“He’s definitely planning something,” Finnick said, when they turned away. “I don’t know if it’s something we’ll understand, but it’s something.”

Athena glanced back at him. He looked deep in thought.

“It’s definitely gonna be something we don’t understand.”

Finnick grinned. “With any luck, it’ll involve healing these scabs.”

“This is really the longest you’ve gone without being pretty, isn’t it?”

“I maintain that these pretty boy jokes are being made to take the attention off yourself.”

She rolled her eyes but smiled, saying, “Hey, at least they’re getting better.” She held up one of her hands to examine, which was in fact in much better condition than it had been last night. “It’ll heal before long. Anyway, count your blessings. At least it doesn’t itch anymore.”

“I am counting them,” he said. “Doesn’t change that we look like that one painting you drew of a monster from one of Calypso’s dreams.”

She laughed, but she was a little stunned. “You remember that?”

“Of course I do,” he said, as though surprised she had to ask. “I remember everything.”

There was something odd about the way he said it. His tone was a little different than what discussing the monsters that Calypso’s unconscious mind had come up with at the age of eleven perhaps called for. His voice, coupled with the way he was looking at her, felt something like an ‘I love you.’ She got the same pleasantly warm, light feeling in her chest that spread throughout her entire body every time he told her he loved her, anyway. A smile spread across her face without control as she looked at him.

For a moment, she thought back to his Games, his first Games. He had been fourteen and golden and beautiful and incredible and terrifying. His arena had a waterfall, and he spent hours he probably should have spent resting watching it. At thirteen, Athena had initially found that odd. It took her some time to realize that nobody spent that long staring at a height that large unless they were thinking of throwing themselves off of it. He never did it, though. He killed seven at fourteen. She could never judge him. It was what the arena made someone do. And after all, she had killed four, helped to kill two, couldn’t save five.

She thought about him now. He was nothing like that and everything like that at the same time. She wondered what it would’ve been like if she had known him earlier; if, before the Games, he had been more than a face she passed occasionally that was known to get into a lot of fights while escaping trouble for them. She didn’t think it mattered, though. She knew him now. He was real and alive and beside her, and she would die right then and there if it meant he could keep living. That was all that really mattered.

They fell silent for a time. The sun was gradually rising higher and higher, mixing the usual pink of the sky with reds and oranges. Athena couldn’t look away. This could very well be the last sunrise she ever saw; she wanted to commit it to memory, make sure every last detail of it was imprinted in her mind, so that she would never forget it. Beautiful as it was, she wished she could paint it, but she had no colours to use, no canvas to draw on.

 _If I live,_ she thought. _If I live, I’ll paint it. Something beautiful in all this ugliness. It shouldn’t be forgotten._

When she had looked her fill, she looked back down at the water and noticed something that made her smile.

“Hey,” she said, running her hand in the water, “it's your favourite colour.”

Indeed, the orangey red sunrise had turned the sea into that red-orange-blue colour that Finnick liked so much. She had painted a great deal of pictures with this as the main colour specifically because he loved it so much. It had taken a lot of paint-mixing, but she had managed it. She watched Finnick watching the water, until he turned to look back at her, a small smile on his face.

“You remember that?” he said, surprised.

“Of course I do,” she replied. “I remember everything too.”

His smile widened then, squeezing her hand lightly. From the look on his face, he seemed to read in between the lines too, recognize her words as an ‘I love you too’. Somehow, this, sitting together quietly as waves of Finnick’s favourite colour splashed about them gently, awaiting what was likely their imminent deaths, was oddly peaceful.

“Besides,” she added, “it's kind of hard to forget when your favourite colour is the most specific, ridiculously intricate thing I've ever heard. Seriously, I'm supposed to be the artsy one and even I never go that far.”

Finnick burst out laughing. He had to bite down on his lip to stifle it, and his laughter was so infectious she couldn’t help but join him.

When they finally calmed down, clutching stitches in their sides, Finnick said, his tone much more serious, “Well, I’m glad to have seen it. Especially with you.”

She smiled gently. For a suspended moment, they just stared at each other. Athena was trying to think of something for them to do so that the Capitol would not think oddly of this, when he suddenly splashed her with the saltwater. For a moment, she just sat there, shocked, as the water hit her face. Then she burst out laughing again, released his hand, and used both of hers to splash him back. The both of them trying to control their laughter, they spent several moments competing to see who could splash each other with the most amount of water, until Finnick dove into the water and disappeared.

“That’s cheating!” Athena said through her laughter, half-whispering, half-yelling. “I swear, I’m gonna - ”

But before she could finish her sentence, a hand was grabbing her ankle and pulling her deeper into the water. She had time only to see that it was Finnick who had done it before he was wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing her. Were there cameras here? Had the Gamemakers thought that there would be anything worth broadcasting underwater? She didn’t know. All she knew was that if there was any place they could do this, this was their best bet, that Finnick had probably known this, and that the reason he had started that playfight was so that he had some sort of pretense when he suddenly dove in the water and pulled her in with him. She also knew that Finnick was there and he was kissing her. As though by instinct, she kissed him back immediately.

Her hands went to his face, before they went to run through his bronze-coloured hair, tugging on it the way she knew he liked. He wrapped his arms tighter around her, pulling her closer to him, and she leaned into him. Her hands moved to his chest, gripping onto the material of his jumpsuit. Her hair was floating about underwater, and he moved his hands to wound his fingers in the curls. There was something desperate in the way he kissed her, a desperation she matched; as though he was committing every part of her mouth to memory, as though he wanted to make something much too short feel longer, as though he was taking full advantage of a moment he knew they might not ever get again.

When they pulled away, at first, they just stared at each other. Her heart was racing, but for the first time since entering the arena, it wasn’t from fear or anxiety. She felt hyperaware of every part of herself, of everything around her, but in a good way. In the best way.

“I love you,” Finnick signed, very carefully, as though he didn’t want her to miss it. “I’m in love with you. I wish we didn’t have to hide. I wish we had more time, but... but I love you. So much. I’m in love with you. I love you.”

Athena moved a little closer to him, signing, “I love you too. It’s you. It’s always been you. It’ll always be you. I love you.”

She took his face in her hands and kissed him again. He responded immediately, kissing her back fervently. And then, when they quite literally could not hold their breath any longer, they resurfaced, a safe distance apart from each other now that they were above water again. She hoped people watching this thought they were panting so hard from staying underwater for so long and from the exertion of whatever playfight they figured they must have had.

“Was that a bad decision?” he whispered to her.

From the slightly dazed look on his face, it seemed he was looking to her for confirmation because he couldn’t think clearly enough. This was a bad decision, because Athena’s head was spinning and all she could think about was that she wanted to pull him under and kiss him again. She didn’t think they could make it look inconspicuous a second time around.

“Maybe,” she said. “Probably. I think I’ve made worse.”

Another dimpled smile crossed his face at that. “Me too.”

“Hey,” came Johanna’s voice from behind them. They turned. She eyed them for a moment, but if she saw something out of the ordinary with them, she didn’t comment on it. “Why didn't you assholes tell me about Mags?”

There was no venom in her voice, though, and her expression was soft. Johanna hadn’t known Mags well, but from the few times they had interacted, it was clear Johanna was fond of her. She was kind, genuinely kind and good and clever, enough for Johanna to respect her, and had a sharp enough wit to make Johanna like her. There were, perhaps, a thousand explanations as to why they had not told her; there hadn’t really been a good time to bring it up, it hurt too much to think about, if they dwelled on it they might break in a way they couldn’t afford just then, there was some immediate danger they had to attend to first...

In the end, Finnick just said, “Who told you?”

“Katniss,” said Johanna. “The first time we were on watch. I don’t think she - I think she realized she was important to you guys, somehow, but she didn’t really - didn’t really understand who she was, fully. Anyways, she brought it up. She overheard you guys talking talking about it on the first day.”

“I’m sorry we didn’t tell you,” Athena said, but Johanna was already waving away the apology.

“Whatever,” she said, “don’t apologize. You don’t need to apologize. I just... fuck, Mags? Of all people, I’d have never thought...” she trailed off, looking off into the horizon, before her eyes lowered to look at them. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry it happened. I know she was family to you.”

Before Athena or Finnick could say anything to that, another parachute was dropped above them. The three of them waded through the water to make it back to the beach. Peeta was already awake again, and Katniss was rising to join them as the parachute descended upon them. It was another delivery of bread, identical to the one they received the previous night. Twenty-four rolls from District Three. The new delivery left them with thirty rolls overall. They each took another three, leaving twelve in reserve. Now, in the light of day, so close to the end, jokes about who would be around to eat the rolls had lost its humor.

Twenty-four rolls of bread from District Three. Day three. Hour twenty-four. It seemed a bit excessive to do it a second time, but she supposed there was no real harm in it, because no one who wasn’t in on the mission would possibly be able to put together the significance. And the second delivery provided more confirmation, more reassurance. Tonight, day three, at midnight exactly, the rescue mission would be executed. Whether the mission was successful or not, whether they lived or died in this arena would be decided by how things went tonight.

After they were finished eating their rolls, they all busied themselves with something. Katniss was teaching Peeta how to swim. Johanna watched them carefully for a while, before losing interest and taking a nap. Beetee began playing with his wire again. Was he still coming up with the details of his plan? Was he coming up with the finishing touches, perfecting it? Day three. Hour twenty-four. He must have realized he only had so much time to come up with the right plan to aid in the mission. Finnick, who was sitting beside her, was weaving a new net out of vines. Athena had found a stone and was using it to sharpen everyone’s weapons for them. They worked side by side in comfortable silence. By the time she finished, Finnick had finished weaving most of the net. Athena looked around the beach. Just then, she spotted something by the shore, something that made her heart leap.

“I’ll be right back,” she whispered.

She got up and walked over to it, before picking up one of the bright blue seashells, turning it over in her fingers slowly. She had seen it here before, but it took a few seconds to remember where. It had been right after they had escaped the poison fog, when she was looking for shells to collect more seawater to use to revive Finnick. She had been able to sense that there was some significance to them, but her head had been so affected by the fog that she hadn’t been able to pinpoint what. Now that she knew, she felt a wide smile spread across her face, unable to help herself. Within a matter of seconds, she was on her knees, searching for more. When she found as many as she needed, Athena got to her feet and walked to the edge of the jungle.

“Where are you going?” Finnick called after her, not having noticed the shells.

“Give me a second,” she replied, wanting it to be a surprise.

Athena found a thin, smooth fallen vine, long and strong enough to do what she wanted. She set to work immediately, looping the seashells through the vine, paying attention to her surroundings in case of attack. Soon, when she had enough seashells on the vine, she knotted the ends together carefully to form a necklace.

Smiling, satisfied with her work, Athena got to her feet and walked back to Finnick, tossing the necklace onto his lap and saying, “Nine hundred ninety-nine to go.”

Finnick looked at her in confusion for a moment as she sat down, before looking down and picking up the necklace. For a moment, he just stared at it. Then his face split into a wide grin, and he threw the necklace around his neck immediately.

“You’re a woman of your word,” he said, and he said it to tease her, but he was practically beaming at her, genuinely delighted by the surprise.

“Don’t act so surprised,” she said, stretching, but she was smiling, pleased.

At that moment, Katniss, who was still by the water with Peeta, called out, “Hey, Athena, Finnick, come here! We figured out how to make you pretty again!”

They exchanged glances.

“Looks like your wishes are coming true,” she whispered to him, as they got to their feet and walked over to them.

“Don’t act like you don’t want it too,” was all he said.

When they reached Katniss and Peeta, they showed them that by gently rubbing a handful of sand on their skin, they could clean off the rest of the scabs, which were beginning to peel off. They set to work immediately. They scrubbed themselves with the sand, ridding themselves of the scales and scabs on their bodies, helping each other with their backs. By the end of it, their skin was left raw and tingling, but new and uninjured. They applied another round of the medicine, because the skin seemed much too delicate for the sunlight, but it didn’t look half as bad on smooth skin, and would probably work as good camouflage in the jungle. Finnick was right; ridding herself of the scabs brought about an instant relief, touching her now smooth skin gingerly.

At that moment, Beetee was calling them over. Athena and Finnick exchanged meaningful looks. Whatever plan Beetee was coming up with, it seemed he was ready to share it. Deciding not to waste any time, they hurried over to meet him, ready to hear whatever plan he had that would bring them out of these Games and closer to District Thirteen.


	22. XXI

**XXI**

 

When the four of them reached Beetee, it soon became evident that he had indeed come up with a plan.

“I think we’ll all agree that our next job is to kill Brutus and Enobaria,” he said mildly. “I doubt they’ll attack us openly again, now that they’re so outnumbered. We could track them down, I suppose, but it’s dangerous, exhausting work.”

“Do you think they’ve figured out about the clock?” asked Katniss.

“If they haven’t, they’ll figure it out soon enough. Perhaps not as specifically as we have. But they must know that at least some of the zones are wired for attacks and that they’re reoccuring in a circular fashion. Also, the fact that our last fight was cut off by Gamemaker intervention will not have gone unnoticed by them. We know it was an attempt to disorient us, but they must be asking why it was done, and this, too, may lead them to the realization that the arena’s a clock,” Beetee explained. “So I think our best bet will be setting our own trap.”

Before Beetee could go on, Finnick remembered that Johanna was still asleep. “Wait, let me wake Johanna up. She’ll be rabid if she thinks she missed something this important.”

“Or not,” Katniss muttered. She didn’t stop him, though, so he let the moment pass; they didn’t need for her to like Johanna, or any of them, really. They just needed to get her out alive.

Johanna woke up with a jolt when Finnick shook her awake, grabbing tight hold onto her ax.

“Just me,” he said. “Beetee’s come up with a plan. Figured you wouldn’t want to miss it.”

She looked from Finnick, to the gathered group of Athena, Beetee, Katniss, and Peeta, and merely said, getting to her feet, “About time. We haven’t got much of it left.”

As soon as they had rejoined the group, Beetee shooed them all back a bit so that he could have room to work in the sand. He swiftly drew a circle and divided it into twelve wedges. It was the arena. He didn’t draw it with the precise strokes that Peeta used when he drew the arena, or the careful, steady, precise hand that Athena always had when she drew, but in the rough lines of a man whose mind was occupied by other, far more complex things.

“If you were Brutus and Enobaria, knowing what you do now about the jungle, where would you feel safest?” Beetee asked.

There was nothing patronizing in his voice, but he still reminded Finnick of a schoolteacher easing his students into a lesson. It might have been the age difference, with Beetee being significantly older than the rest of them. Or it was the fact that it was clear to everyone gathered that Beetee was much, much smarter than the rest of them.

Everyone looked over at Finnick and Athena after the question was posed. Maybe because they had a fair few things in common with Brutus and Enobaria, being Career tributes.

“The beach,” Athena said. “It’s the safest by far, and the Cornucopia is nearby, and Careers usually like hanging out by the Cornucopia.”

“So why aren’t they here?” said Beetee.

“Because we’re here,” Finnick replied. “Like you said, they know we outnumber them, they wouldn’t be stupid enough to try and attack.”

“Exactly,” Beetee said. “We’re here, claiming the beach. Now where would you go?”

Finnick and Athena exchanged looks, thoughtful at this. Finnick tried to picture himself in Brutus and Enobaria’s position. Maybe if it was just him and Athena instead.

“I’d hide just at the edge of the jungle,” Athena said slowly. “So it’d be easier to escape if an attack came. And so I could spy on us.”

“And to eat,” Finnick added, nodding in agreement. “The jungle’s full of strange creatures and plants. But by watching us, I’d know the seafood’s safe.”

Beetee was smiling like they had exceeded his expectations. “Yes, good. You do see. Now here’s what I propose: a twelve o’clock strike. What happens exactly at noon and at midnight?”

“The lightning bolt hits the tree,” said Katniss.

“Yes. So what i’m suggesting is that after the bolt hits at noon, but before it hits at midnight, we run my wire from that tree all the way down into the saltwater, which is, of course, highly conductive. When the bolt strikes, the electricity will travel down the wire and into not only the water, but also the surrounding beach, which will still be damp from the ten o’clock wave. Anyone in contact with those surfaces at that moment will be electrocuted.”

There was a long pause while they all digested this plan. It seemed a bit fantastical. Then again, though, this was Beetee. The man who was famous for electrocuting six people at once so that he could win his Games. The man who designed most of the technology in the Capitol, including the wire he was keeping close to him. If anyone could do it, it would be him. Besides, Finnick had set countless traps before with his net. Wasn’t this really just a larger snare with a more scientific component? Finnick didn’t even know how to go about questioning the plan. How could any of them, tributes trained to gather fish and lumber and coal, even begin to question this? What did they know about harnessing power from the sky?

Peeta gave a rather brave attempt. “Will that wire really be able to conduct that much power, Beetee? It looks so fragile, like it would just burn up.”

“Oh, it will. But not until the current has passed through it. It will act something like a fuse, in fact. Except the electricity will travel along it.”

“How do you know?” Johanna asked, looking unconvinced.

“Because I invented it,” Beetee answered, as if surprised by the question. “It’s not actually wire in the usual sense. Nor is the lightning natural lightning nor is the tree a real tree. You know trees better than any of us, Johanna. It would be destroyed by now, wouldn’t it?”

“Yes,” she replied glumly.

“Don’t worry about the wire - it will do just as I say,” Beetee assured them.

“And where will we be when this happens?” Finnick asked; he would die for this mission if he had to, but death by electrocution was something he would like to avoid.

“Far enough up in the jungle to be safe,” Beetee replied.

“The Careers will be safe, too, then, unless they’re in the vicinity of the water,” Katniss pointed out.

“That’s right.”

“But the seafood will be cooked,” Peeta said.

“Probably more than cooked,” said Beetee. “We will most likely be eliminating that as a food source for good. But you found other edible things in the jungle, right, Katniss?”

“Yes,” Katniss replied. “Nuts and rats. And we have sponsors.”

“Well, then, I don’t see that as a problem,” Beetee said. “But as we are allies and this will require all our efforts, the decision of whether or not to attempt it is up to you five.”

They really did seem like schoolchildren; completely unable to dispute his theory with anything but the most elementary of concerns, most of which have nothing to do with his actual plan.

Katniss looked around at them, before saying, “Why not? If it fails, there’s no harm done. If it works, there’s a decent chance we’ll kill them. And even if we don’t and just kill the seafood, Brutus and Enobaria lose it as a food source, too.”

“I say we try it,” Peeta piped up. “Katniss is right.”

Johanna looked thoughtful, before she said finally, “Alright. It’s better than hunting them down in the jungle, anyway. And I doubt they’ll figure out our plan, since we can barely understand it ourselves.”

It was down to Finnick and Athena now. Finnick was thoughtful. There had to be more to his plan than this, than just killing Brutus and Enobaria. They were in the final day before the rescue mission would be executed; no doubt Beetee was figuring out something that would aid in that mission, though he obviously couldn’t say it out loud. It had to be something good, something he had thought through very, very carefully, worked out all the kinks and bugs in it to be sure it was perfect. After all, once midnight came around, they only had one shot at this. Beetee had to know that. And all this, using wires and harnessing electricity, it was all so over Finnick’s head he knew he was in no place to question his logic. He had to trust Beetee, trust that hidden in this plan, a decoy to keep up appearances, Beetee had another plan that he had perfected. But there was still one person’s confirmation Finnick needed before he could agree to this.

He looked over at Athena. She hadn’t spoken since Beetee began proposing his plan, looking deep in thought. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the others staring at him, and knew then, from the looks on their faces, that they saw the truth, which was this: Finnick would go no further without Athena. He would go nowhere she could not or would not follow. Though she had been staring at Beetee and his wire, she seemed to be able to sense when his gaze fell upon her, because her eyes found his quickly. For a moment, they just stared at each other, and he raised his eyebrows, a silent question.

She looked like a million thoughts were running through her mind, but she gave a quick, subtle nod, which was all he needed to be on board with the plan. She then turned to the group at large and said, “I think it’s a good plan. If it works, we’ll probably get rid of some enemies. If it doesn’t, we won’t really have lost anything. Worst comes to worse, it’ll probably be easier to find Brutus and Enobaria after all that chaos and end it the old fashion way. I say we do it.”

And just like that, with Athena’s words, it was decided. They knew what they would be doing in their last moments in the arena. In the last moments, perhaps, of their lives.

 

*

 

Beetee wanted to inspect the lightning tree before rigging it. Athena looked up at the sky and guessed that it was about nine in the morning. They would have to leave their part of the beach soon, anyway. They broke camp (occasionally, Athena would look at the new seashell necklace dangling from Finnick’s neck and smile to herself), walked over to the part of the beach that bordered the lightning section, and headed into the jungle. Beetee was still too weak to hike up the slope on his own, so Athena, Finnick, and Peeta took turns carrying him. Johanna led the way, with Katniss bringing up the rear.

The dense, muggy air weighed down on her. There had been no break from it since the beginning of the Games. Just as she had suspected, she hadn’t been completely dry since the Games started. She would've given anything for a break from the neverending humid heat. Cold water, cold air, anything. It felt like they were all just one big, warm, stew.

As they neared the tree, Peeta suggested that Katniss take the lead. He explained to Johanna and Beetee, “Katniss can hear the force field.”

“Hear it?” Beetee repeated.

“Only with the ear the Capitol reconstructed,” said Katniss.

Johanna accepted that easily enough, but Athena knew at once that Beetee wasn't buying it for a second. He was the expert on force fields, the one who even told Katniss and Athena about the small, visible weaknesses. But Beetee, too, accepted it without question. Maybe he knew it was better that the Capitol didn't know that they knew about the chink in the armour.

“Then by all means, let Katniss go first,” he said, pausing to wipe the steam off his glasses. “Force fields are nothing to play around with.”

The lightning tree was unmistakable due to the fact that it towered so high above the others. Katniss found a bunch of nuts and made the rest of them wait as she moved slowly up the slope, tossing the nuts ahead of her. She returned a few moments later.

“Just stay below the lightning tree,” she told them.

They divided up duties. Athena and Finnick guarded Beetee while he examined the tree, Johanna tapped for water, Peeta gathered nuts, and Katniss hunted nearby. As they expected, no threats came along. A little after the sound of the ten o’clock wave came along, Katniss returned with three dead tree rats and began cleaning her kills. She drew a line in the dirt a few feet from the force field as a reminder not to keep back. She and Peeta began roasting nuts and searing cubes of rat.

Athena had no idea exactly what Beetee was doing at the tree, and she suspected that whatever it was and why, it was beyond the realm of understanding for her. He seemed to be taking measurements and such. At one point, he snapped off a sliver of bark, joined Katniss and Peeta by the force field, and threw the bark against it. It bounced back and landed on the ground, glowing. In a few moments, it returned to its original colour.

“Well, that explains a lot,” he muttered.

Athena caught Finnick’s eyes, then had to look away immediately, fighting to keep back laughter, since it explained absolutely nothing to anyone but Beetee.

A short while after, they heard the sound of clicks rising from the sector adjacent to them. That meant it was eleven o’clock. It was far louder in the jungle than it was on the beach last night. They all listened closely.

“It’s not mechanical,” Beetee said decidedly.

“I’d guess insects,” said Katniss. “Maybe beetles.”

“Something with pincers,” Finnick added.

The sound swelled, as if alerted by their whispering to the proximity of live flesh. Instinctively, Athena tightened her grip on her spear. Whatever it was that was making that clicking noise, Athena had a feeling it could strip them to the bone within seconds.

“We should get out of here, anyway,” Johanna said. “There’s less than an hour before the lightning starts.”

They didn’t go that far, though. Only to the identical tree in the blood-rain section. They had a sort of picnic, squatting on the ground, eating their jungle food and waiting for the bolt that signaled noon. At Beetee’s request, Katniss climbed up into the canopy as the clicking began fading out. Once the lightning strike was over and Katniss returned to the ground, she described it as dazzling, making the entire tree glow a hot blue-white and causing the surrounding air to seem to crackle with electricity. It wasn’t a terribly scientific description, but Beetee seemed satisfied.

They took a roundabout route back to the ten o’clock beach. The sand was smooth and damp, swept clean by the recent wave. Beetee essentially gave them the afternoon off while he worked with the wire. Since it was his weapon and the rest of them had to defer to his knowledge so entirely, it felt quite like a teacher letting his students out of school early. A large part of Athena wanted to go back underwater with Finnick, but there really was no way of pulling that off inconspicuously for a second time. She swallowed down disappointment; these could possibly be her last hours alive, and she hated that she had to be so careful with what she did in them. Still, this was the nature of the Games, the nature of life in Panem. And she had agreed to this plan, both Beetee’s and the general rebel plan and even to be a tribute.

At first, they all took turns having naps in the shadowy edge of the jungle, but by late afternoon, they were all awake and restless. They decided, since this was probably their last chance for seafood, to make a sort of feast out of it. Under Athena and Finnick’s guidance, they all speared fish and shellfish, even dove for oysters. As Athena, Finnick, Katniss, and Peeta cleaned and laid out the seafood, Johanna kept watch.

“Hey, look at this!” Peeta said with a laugh, having just pried open an oyster. He held up a glistening, perfect pearl about the size of a pea. He said to Athena and Finnick, earnestly, “You know, if you put enough pressure on coal it turns to pearls.”

“No, it doesn't,” Finnick said dismissively, because it wasn't true, nor did it really make any sense at all. Katniss cracked up, though. Finnick shot Athena a sideways glance, a look that asked silently if the people they had sworn to protect with their lives were as sane as they had originally thought. Athena grinned at his expression, though she had to assume Peeta's comment was some sort of inside joke. Either that, or Katniss and Peeta had no idea how coals or pearls worked. Given that they were from the district where its industry was mining, she was inclined to believe the former.

Peeta rinsed the pearl off in the water and handed it to Katniss. “For you.”

Katniss held it out in her palm and examined its iridescent surface for a time. The look in her eyes was wistful yet grim. She said, looking at Peeta coolly, “Thanks.”

The laughter drained from Peeta's face as he looked at Katniss. “The locket didn't work, did it? Katniss?”

Athena's eyes went to the locket Peeta had given her, still hanging from her neck. She had no idea what the significance of it was supposed to be.

“It worked,” said Katniss.

“But not the way I wanted it to,” he said. He avoided her gaze, and after that, looked at nothing but his oysters.

Just as they were about to eat, a parachute appeared bearing supplements to their meal. A small pot of spicy red sauce and yet another round of rolls from District Three. Finnick counted them again, and sure enough, there were twenty-four. It seemed now that they were just set on providing them constant reminders now that they were only hours away from the end.

This left them with thirty-six rolls. They each took five, leaving six behind for later. Not that there would be a later, but it seemed a good idea to keep up appearances that there would be for the sake of keeping Katniss and Peeta unsuspecting.

The salty fish flesh, the succulent shellfish, the oysters that were complemented perfectly by the sauce. She was definitely eating much better in this arena than she had in her last, when she was relying on carefully preserved rations and stale food she found and burnt desert creatures to keep her going. In comparison, her time in this arena had been full of luxury feasts, especially considering so much of it was exactly what she ate at home in Four. She figured it was very nice of Haymitch and Plutarch and probably the mentors from Districts Three and Seven to ensure what was potentially their last meal was a good one. They gorged themselves until no one could hold another bite, and even then there were leftovers. They wouldn't keep, though, so they tossed the remaining food into the water so that the Careers couldn't have it when they left. No one bothered with the shells, figuring the wave would wash them away.

There was nothing to do now but wait. Athena, Finnick, and Johanna all sat together. Finnick, though he was still alert and restless, stretched out on the sand. For a split second, it looked like he was going to rest his head on Athena's lap - then he seemed to think better of it and rested it on the sand instead. She figured it was better that way. She looked down at her hands, turning her spear over and over again. How much time did she have left? How much did Finnick have? Johanna? Beetee? Even Peeta? They were so close now, but it seemed huge obstacles stood in between them. If Beetee’s plan - his real plan, not this decoy plan to keep up appearances - was a success, they would all be able to make it out alright. Even Chaff, who she hadn't seen since the very beginning of the Games. Maybe even Brutus and Enobaria. She wasn't sure what they would do if Brutus and Enobaria were still alive by the time the hovercraft came at midnight. Would they take them too? Leave them to the Capitol? She didn't have much fondness for Brutus and Enobaria, and she knew they wouldn't receive any punishment, but it still seemed cruel to leave them in the Capitol's hands. All of this was, of course, assuming Beetee's plan went off without a hitch. Athena had a sneaking suspicion, a mounting feeling of dread, that it would not be that easy.

The anthem began, but there were no faces in the sky tonight. The Capitol audience would doubtlessly be restless, thirsty for more blood. Beetee's plan must have held promise, though, because the Gamemakers didn't send in any other attacks. Maybe they were waiting to see if it would work. Maybe Plutarch knew that it would and was ensuring Beetee got the chance to implement his plan. He was probably busy, Plutarch, readying everything for the rescue mission. Only a few hours now...

At what they judged to be about nine, they left their shell-strewn camp, crossed to the twelve o’clock section of the beach, and began to quietly hike up to the lightning tree, guided by the light of the moon. Their full stomachs made them more uncomfortable and breathless than they had been during their morning hike. Delicious as they had been, Athena was beginning to regret the last dozen oysters.

Beetee asked Athena and Finnick to assist him, while the rest stood guard. Before he attached any wire to the tree, he unrolled yards and yards of the stuff. He had Athena secure it tightly around a broken branch and set it off to the side on the ground. Athena was immediately burning with questions; was that wire for his real plan? What was the purpose of it? Did he intend to act alone? Would he not need any assistance with it? There was no opportunity to ask, though.

Beetee had himself, Athena, and Finnick stand at different parts of the tree, equidistant from each other. They then began passing the spool back and forth as they wrapped the wire around and around the trunk. At first, Athena thought it was arbitrary, until she saw a pattern like an intricate maze. She wondered if it made a difference how the wire was placed, or it it was just to add to the speculation of the audience. Most of them probably knew about as much electricity as she did. Occasionally, Beetee would give Athena, Finnick, and Johanna furtive looks, and then raise his eyes skyward. Athena would look up, but find nothing there. She was confused, but didn't try to question the gesture out loud.

They completed their work on the trunk just as they heard the ten o'clock wave hit. She had never worked out at what point in the hour the wave erupted. There had to be quite a bit of buildup for a wave that large, then the wave itself, then the aftermath of the flooding. The sky was telling her ten-thirty, though.

It was at this point that Beetee revealed the next part of his plan. Since they moved the swiftest through the trees, he wanted Johanna and Katniss to take the coil through the jungle, unwinding the wire as they went. They were to lay it across the twelve o’clock section of the beach and drop the metal spool, along with however much wire was left, deep into the water, making sure the whole thing sunk. They were then to run back deep into the relative safety of the jungle. If they went right now, they should make it back to the jungle in time.

“I want to go with them as a guard,” said Peeta at once.

“You're too slow. Besides, we have three potential adversaries,” said Beetee. Since District Eleven was in on the mission, Athena doubted Chaff would make any attack or try to stop them, but she figured it was probably a good move to keep up appearances. “Three guards is what I and the tree need. Katniss will guard. There's no time to debate this. I'm sorry. If the girls are to get out of there alive, they need to move now.

Beetee handed the coil to Johanna. Peeta didn't look happy, clearly wanting to stick close to Katniss, who didn't seem to like being away from Peeta much better. It was a smart idea, she knew, keeping Katniss and Peeta apart. Besides the undeniable fact that Johanna and Katniss were the quickest and most sure-footed through the trees and that Peeta was too slow to be able to make it down the slope in time, there was also the fact that as their numbers dwindled, Katniss and Peeta were probably wondering how much longer this alliance could last. It was likely they were already considering running away or even trying to kill the rest of them. Between Athena, Finnick, and Johanna, the two teenagers could be subdued, but it would be easier to separate them and avoid the problem altogether. They would go nowhere, do nothing, without the other. Not for the first time, Athena felt guilt rush through her as she looked at Katniss and Peeta. They knew nothing, were completely clueless...

Apparently Katniss seemed to realize this was the only option, because she said to Peeta, “It's okay. We'll just drop the coil and come straight back up.”

“Not into the lightning zone,” Beetee reminded her. “Head for the tree in the one-to-two-o'clock sector. If you find you're running out of time, move over one more. Don't even think about going back on the beach, though, until I can assess the damage.”

“Don't worry, I'll see you at midnight,” Katniss told Peeta, took his face in her hands, and kissed him quickly. Before he could object any further, she let go and turned to Johanna. “Ready?”

“Why not?” Johanna shrugged. She didn't seem any more pleased to be paired off than Katniss, but she seemed to recognize the necessity of it. “You guard, I'll unwind. We can trade off later.”

Without further discussion, Johanna and Katniss headed down the slope and, only seconds later, disappeared into the foliage. For a moment, they were all quiet, looking into the direction Johanna and Katniss had gone, before Beetee broke the silence, his voice one of grim determination.

“Come on. There's still work to be done.”


	23. XXII

**XXII**

 

Beetee had a few other tasks that required their assistance. They all worked in silence for a while. Every now and then, Beetee would continue to shoot Finnick and Athena furtive looks, then look skyward, brandishing his wire a little more than altogether necessary. Finnick didn't understand. Beetee was clearly trying to tell them something, and it was likely something related to the mission, but what?

Finnick glanced up at the sky again, and then he saw it. He wasn't quite like Athena or Katniss or Beetee, he wasn't as good at spotting it, and it was dark out, but the bright moonlight illuminated the sky just enough, and though the ripple was quick, it was too big to miss. A weakness in the force field. Finnick lowered his eyes back to Beetee, who was gazing carefully at Finnick and Athena. He was clutching his wire tightly in his hand. Finnick's eyes flickered from the wire to the sky where he knew the force field was, and finally, finally understood. Johanna and Blight had been tasked with the responsibility of protecting Beetee and Wiress, not just to appease Katniss, but so Beetee could blow a hole in the force field. It made sense, of course. They would have a much easier job retrieving them if there wasn't a force field in the way. Finnick looked over at Athena, who seemed to have put this together as well.

No sooner had he come to this conclusion that something odd happened. The coil, which before had been taut, suddenly went slack and even seemed to spring back towards them. They all paused for a moment, confused and put off by the sudden change.

“Are they coming back up?” Peeta said, frowning. “That doesn't make any sense.”

“No,” Beetee said slowly, his brow furrowed, “it doesn't.”

Athena bent down, brought a hand to the wire, and began moving it around. Her expression was grim. She stood back up, moved away from the wire, and said, “It's pretty far down, about halfway to the beach at least, but I felt a loose end. Someone cut it.”

They were all quiet. They both knew Johanna or Katniss wouldn't do such a thing. Chaff might, if he didn't know what was going on. But they all knew the most likely culprits of this particular crime were Brutus and Enobaria.

“Well, then,” said Beetee. He didn't seem overly concerned about his electrocution plan being effectively ruined. His eyes flickered down to the length of wire he had Athena set aside for him, and Finnick understood that it was because his true plan was still a go. “I’d like a weapon, then.” Athena, Finnick, and Peeta all stared at him. “If the wire has been cut, it's only a matter of time before the Careers come for us. I know you three to be excellent fighters, but I’d prefer to not be completely defenseless. A knife should do.”

“What about the wire?” asked Peeta.

“There's no time anymore, Peeta,” Beetee replied. “We would have to rewrap the tree all over again and send Katniss and Johanna on their way a second time, and we're already nearing eleven o'clock. Right now, the priority is to stay alive.”

Athena removed one of the longer knives from her belt and handed it to him. Beetee took it carefully, running his fingers carefully along the blade, one of his fingers wrapping around the hilt.

“Yes, this should do,” he murmured, more to himself than anything, though Finnick was wondering exactly how much experience Beetee had with combat for it to make much of a difference what kind of weapon was handed to him. He took some of the wire and wrapped it around the knife, and Finnick understood what he wanted the weapon for; to drive it into the force field once lightning struck and destroy it.

Either way, the Careers didn't come this way. They listened hard for any noises, but there were no voices, no breathing except for their own, no footsteps. Not even the light, quick ones of Johanna and Katniss. Peeta was getting more restless by the second. It was only a matter of time before he would try to find Katniss by himself.

“They're not here,” Peeta said. “They're not coming after us, they're coming after Katniss and Johanna! I knew I should've gone with them!”

He seemed about ready to take off, which was why Athena grabbed his arm before he could.

“Wait,” she hissed. “Wait. You can't just go charging through, they'll hear you. We need to come up with a plan quick.”

“How quick?” he said. “What plan? This _was_ the plan. The Careers could have Katniss _right now_.”

Athena opened her mouth to reply, but then stopped dead, and after a split second, he could understand why. There were two sets of footsteps coming in their direction. It wasn’t Katniss and Johanna, though, that much was clear at once. The footsteps were heavy, not trying to conceal their whereabouts. It was Brutus and Enobaria.

Athena acted on instinct, shoving Peeta hard so that he fell into the foliage, which shielded him from view, hissing, “Stay down!”

She was protecting him. Brutus and Enobaria couldn’t kill what they couldn’t see.

Brutus and Enobaria appeared closest to Beetee, so that who was they attacked first. Athena threw one of her knives, sinking it into Brutus’ shoulder blades, but that didn’t stop Enobaria, who shoved Beetee with all her might into the tree and buried her knife to the hilt in his thigh, dragging it along the length of his thigh. At the same moment, though, Beetee raised his knife, not to attack, but to throw it into the force field, The lightning hadn’t struck yet, it was too early for that, so the force field didn’t break, but the force with which the knife hit the force field sent everyone in the vicinity flying back. Instinctively, Finnick reached for Athena and covered her body with his. He was still disoriented, but he managed to roll he and Athena over until they were hidden in some of the foliage on the ground, only able to hope that it wasn’t poisonous.

Slowly, the world calmed down and became still again. There were several moments where everything was frozen, everyone too disoriented to act. There was no cannon. Everyone was still alive - for now. Athena was staring up at him, wide eyes shining in the moonlight.

“We have to do it,” she whispered, as loudly as she dared. “We have to be the ones to take them out. Or keep them away from Katniss and Peeta.”

He knew she was right. He nodded. Quite suddenly, as he gazed down at her, so close to the end, he found there was something he needed to say. “Athena,” he choked out, his voice a faint whisper. “Athena, I love you.”

And because they were so hidden in the foliage that the cameras couldn't see, Athena took his face in her hands gently, and brought his mouth to hers, kissing him deeply. She was terrified - he could feel it, with the way their chests were pressed together he could actually feel her erratic, rapid heart rate, and she could probably feel his, but the way she kissed him was almost calm. It was quick, fleeting, due to their circumstances, but it said enough.

“I love you too,” she said, her voice soft.

At that moment, several things happened at once. Brutus and Enobaria began rising to their feet. Finnick's and Athena's hands went to their weapons. But there was the sound of someone yelling. Johanna.

“FINNICK! ATHENA! VOLTS! PEETA!”

Johanna normally wouldn't be stupid enough to be screaming in the middle of the jungle. She was doing this on purpose, drawing all the attention, all the danger towards her. At the same time, there was a rustling noise several yards away, and they turned to see Chaff standing there. He saw Brutus and Enobaria standing there, outnumbering him, and ran. As though they had made some split-second, silent agreement, Brutus chased after Chaff, while Enobaria ran in the direction of Johanna's voice. Peeta, seemingly unscathed, tore after Brutus, raising his long knife.

Finnick and Athena scrambled to their feet. Athena ran to Beetee; he was leaning against the lightning tree, bleeding from the wound in his thigh and moaning in pain. He seemed only semi-conscious. His knife was lying a few feet away. Athena was trying to find some way to tend to his wounds, but Beetee simply grabbed onto her arm as tight as he could in his weakened state, keeping her there.

“At midnight,” he managed out with difficulty. “At midnight... do as I have done... at midnight... make sure that it's done...”

There was no time to question it. Any of it. Beetee was their best chance. They would have to trust him.

“We will,” Finnick said, nodding. “We will.”

He gave a faint nod, apparently satisfied, and went limp. Finnick checked his breathing, then his pulse. Not ideal, but not too bad considering the hit he had just taken. There was a good chance he’d survive the night, so long as he didn’t bleed to death. Finnick relayed that to Athena.

She nodded. “Hand me some of that moss.”

Finnick did as he was told, grabbing handfuls of the stuff from the trees. Athena used it to hastily bandage the wound on his thigh. She studied him closely, and Finnick could see the gears turning rapidly in her head, making a split second decision.

“He won’t wake up before midnight,” she said, raising her spear and pointing it at his arm, just below the crook of his elbow. The same place they inserted their trackers before entering the arena. “No other time to do this...”

They were supposed to wait just until midnight to remove their trackers, that way the Capitol couldn’t locate them and any attempt to capture them would thus be delayed. But Beetee seemed to have slipped into a deep coma now, and from the position of the moon in the sky, Finnick guessed they had a little over an hour until lightning struck the tree. Beetee probably wouldn’t wake up to remove the tracker himself, and Finnick, Athena, and Johanna might not be able to reach him again in time to do it. This might be their only chance. She dug the blade of her spear deeply into his arm, before carefully, methodically extracting the small metal chip in his arm and tossing it on the ground. Finnick crushed it with his shoe for good measure, and she used more moss to bandage the gash she had made in his arm before he lost too much blood.

The two of them then dragged Beetee until he was several feet away from the tree, figuring he should be nowhere near it when lightning struck, and certainly shouldn’t be touching it. They leaned him against another tree, hiding him slightly in the plants that laid at the bottom. Enough so that enemies might not see him at first glance. Not enough that the hovercrafts would miss him when the time came for the rescue mission.

There was nothing more they could do for him. Not now. They both knew this. They turned to look at each other. They both knew what they had to do, but Finnick was reluctant to admit it. Athena did it for him.

“We have to split up,” she said. “Peeta’s gone after Brutus, and Enobaria’s chasing Johanna, which means Katniss is probably in trouble too.” Apparently his terror at the idea of being away from her so close to the end showed through on his face, because she said, “We don’t have another choice. It’s just until we can get a hold of Katniss, Peeta, and Johanna, and then we can meet back up again at midnight - or before it, hopefully.”

He didn’t like it, but he knew they had no choice and little time to dwell on it. “I’ll go find Katniss and Johanna.”

She nodded. “I’ll go after Peeta. Hopefully I find him before Brutus does.” She reached forward, touched his arm briefly. “Midnight. Okay?”

Slowly, he took a deep breath, in, then out, and nodded. “Midnight.”

She let go of him, and he ignored how much he ached for her reassuring touch again already. Her gaze lingered on him for a split second longer, flickered over to Beetee momentarily, before she turned around and raced off into the darkness, in the same direction Peeta, Chaff, and Brutus had all gone. Only after she had disappeared into the trees did he spare one last glance at Beetee, before sprinting in the direction of Johanna’s voice and Enobaria’s footsteps.

 

*

 

Peeta wasn’t very quiet. Athena was grateful for it. She hadn’t been running through the jungle for too long when she began to hear his familiar footsteps crashing through the foliage, and once she could hear his footsteps, he became much easier to track. She was also a little frightened by it; if she could hear him, surely Brutus could too, and she didn’t want Brutus to find Peeta before she could. She heard no sign of Brutus or Chaff anywhere, though she was keeping all her senses alert for any signs of them. She could hear nothing but all the regular noises of the jungle, and Peeta’s rushed footsteps.

She focused on catching up on Peeta. He wasn’t very fast. She figured she would be able to track him down and get a hold of him again soon - at least, until the clicking started up again. It was coming from the insects. It was eleven o’clock now, which meant they were coming out to play in their sector of the jungle. At first, it was faint, but it only got louder and louder, until it was a continuous roar in her ears. It drowned out almost everything else, including Peeta’s footsteps, making them impossible to track.

It didn’t drown out the cannon, though. She still managed to hear it loud and clear, and it stopped her dead in her tracks, fear seizing her heart as she went through a list of possible people it could be... and if it was Katniss... this would have all been for nothing... there was nothing for it but to keep charging forward. She proceeded forward, a little slower and more careful now that the clicking of the insects made it much harder to hear any human noises.

Finally, Athena didn't have to wonder whose death had triggered the cannon. She had found the corpse. Chaff was lying on the dirt, his body completely still and limp, staring blankly at the sky, bleeding profusely from a spear wound. Athena’s heart sank, heavy with grief. She pressed her lips together to keep them from trembling. Chaff, with his easy humor and infectious laughter and warm, welcoming personality... Brutus must have gotten to him. The wound still looked fairly new. She might have been able to catch him, to stop him, if she had been just a little faster...

Looking around to make sure that the coast was otherwise clear, she knelt down by his body, clasped his hands together on his chest, and closed his eyes gently.

“I'm sorry,” she whispered to him, as though he might still hear. “I'm sorry I wasn't fast enough.”

Afterwards, she walked over to a nearby tree and carved out a sign for him:

_Chaff Spud, 46_

_District 11_

_Whether I survive or not, I'll be glad to know I've been able to laugh._

At that moment, the hovercraft appeared in front of them. Athena waited it until it had already collected Chaff’s body before continuing, her spear poised in a defensive position that was ready to be turned into an offensive one at any time. Brutus couldn't be far away. And more importantly, neither could Peeta.

When she could finally hear rustling noises and grunts of pain over the sounds of the clicking insects, Athena ducked behind a nearby tree, keeping herself hidden as she listened hard. The sounds seemed to be of two bodies, both of them fairly big, struggling. In a fight, it seemed. It had to be Peeta and Brutus. She peered around from her tree, examining the scene before her. Sure enough, Peeta was on top of Brutus, punching him over and over in the face. The moonlight illuminated Peeta's face just enough for Athena to see the furious look on his face. This wasn't just out of necessity or self defense. This was out of rage, out of revenge. Peeta couldn't have known Chaff very well; they had spent a lot of time together during training, though... and Chaff had always been good friends with Haymitch... maybe those two things had caused Peeta have formed enough of an attachment to Chaff to feel enraged by his death, his murder.

Athena shifted slightly on the spot, tightening her grip on her spear, but Peeta seemed to be maintaining the upper hand. That was, until Brutus managed to wrestle Peeta off of him and switch their positions. Peeta tried to scramble away from his reach, but Brutus got a hold of him and began beating his face into the dirt. Peeta struggled against him, but Brutus had him trapped with no intention of letting him escape. He was going to kill Peeta.

Athena had to act now. She had a clear shot at him from where she was. If she threw it now, she could get him right through the heart from behind. She wouldn't, though. She couldn't. It was foolish. It might cost her her life. She knew it. But killing him while his back was turned was the sort of despicable even Athena could not do. If she was going to kill him, she had to look into his face. She had to acknowledge the full brutality of what she was doing.

She stepped out of her hiding place, pulled out one of her knives, and threw it, sinking it into Brutus’ calf. While he was distracted and weakened and confused, Athena charged at him, tackling him to the ground and off of Peeta. They went rolling through the dirt, until Athena finally landed on top of him, pinning Brutus down and continuing Peeta’s attack, punching him over and over. Eventually, when Brutus’ nose was broken and his mouth was bleeding, he managed to deflect one of her punches, seizing a tight hold of her wrist. He moved it away and punched her square in the face instead. He shoved her roughly off of him, grabbed her by the scruff of her neck, and slammed her into the trunk of one of the trees, so hard that it knocked the breath out of her. While she was winded, he kicked her in the stomach so hard she hunched over and nearly threw up everything she had eaten, then punched her with so much force that she nearly crashed onto the ground again.

He picked up his spear and charged at her, but she stumbled out of the way just in time. Taking deep breaths, Athena straightened up, raised her own spear, and blocked the next blow he sent. For a short time they were locked in combat, blocking and delivering and dodging blows in equal measure, but Brutus wasn’t nearly as familiar or as skilled with a spear as she was, so it didn’t take long for Athena to figure out his weakness and exploit it. He tried to run her through with the spear again, but she dodged the attack, whipped him around his shoulder blades with the shaft her spear, before using the blade to stab him in both wrists, deep enough that he had to let go of his spear. She kicked it out of his reach and aimed her spear at his side, but he dodged the blow. At surprising speed for his size, he moved behind her and kicked the back of her knees with enough force that she was sent crashing to her knees. Brutus then kicked the back of her head so that the rest of her body went crashing onto the jungle floor. Had Brutus been able to kick just a little more forcefully, he probably would've cracked her skull. She could hear, though now it felt like a million miles away, something that wasn't aided by the incessant clicking of the insects, his footsteps crashing away from her.

Athena allowed herself a split second to collect herself. She squeezed her eyes shut, breathed in and out until she felt she could continue. Even though it still quite felt like the ground had tilted and the earth was spinning, she made herself roll over onto her back and prop herself up on her elbows. Brutus was striding purposefully towards the spear she had kicked away. She couldn't see his face, but she could tell by his tense posture that he was about ready to finish the job once and for all. And he would start with Peeta, who seemed to be unconscious on the ground, not too far away from him. There was no other way. It was either Athena and Peeta or it was Brutus. Athena knew what her choice was. She knew what her choice _had_ to be.

There was a fair amount of distance between them, and Athena was still winded and wounded and dizzy, but she knew she wouldn't miss. When it came to her spear, she didn't miss. She pushed herself off of the ground and onto her feet again, staggering slightly until she managed to regain her footing. She tightened her grip on her spear, taking a split second to steel herself. No matter how much she hated it and herself for it, no matter how much it was making her stomach turn, no matter how much it felt like breaking the promise she made both to Rowan and herself, no matter the fact that she was cutting his life brutally short, she knew there was nothing for it but this. And when the time came, she could not afford to hesitate.

When she was as ready as she would ever get for murder, she called, making her voice steady and calm and determined, “Hey, Brutus!”

He turned to face her, his face looking both derisive and amused at the way she practically refused to give up. He made to attack her again, and Athena aimed her spear and let it fly. It lodged itself right where his heart was before he could even take a full step. As he came crashing to the ground, the cannon fired above, confirming his death. She looked down at him, his jumpsuit slowly becoming stained with blood, the ghost of his derisive expression stuck on his now slack face, and felt bile rushing up her throat. She forced it down with difficulty. She had had to do it. She had had to do it. There was no other choice. That didn’t make it any better. She ambled forward and kneeled down to remove the spear from Brutus’ chest, close his eyes, and clasp his hands at his chest, which was now bleeding profusely. Not that that made much of a difference anymore. She wiped the blood on her spear on some leaves hanging from a nearby tree, and on the bark of the tree carved out:

_Brutus Oreta, 42_

_District 2_

_I’m a victor. I’m a winner. I’m a survivor. And I always will be._

When she moved away from the tree, she saw Peeta approaching her slowly. He was looking from her to Brutus’ body and back again. Athena wasn’t sure if he had woken up in time to see her kill him, or if he saw the wound in chest and saw the spear in her hand and connected the dots. It probably wouldn’t be hard to make the connection.

His nose looked broken. He spat out mouthfuls of blood. His blond hair was matted with dirt and blood. The sight of it made her more acutely aware of the pain at the back of her head. She brought her hand to the back of her head and felt something thick and hot and sticky. She brought her hand back in front of her and found it almost covered in blood. Her stomach swooped unpleasantly at the sight of it, but she wiped it on the leg of her jumpsuit and pushed past the pain. She had endured worse before, she would have to do it again.

She looked up at Peeta again. His face was near impossible to read. Was he angry? Confused? Scared? Perhaps a combination. She had no time to say something to him that might calm him down when he lunged at her, with the intention of slamming her into the tree. She still had enough of her wits and her speed about her to dodge the attack, and instead pinned him against the tree.

“Peeta,” she breathed, struggling to make herself heard over the clicking insects. It was rattling around in her mind, impossible to ignore. “Peeta, listen - ”

“What is going on?” he burst out. “Why did you stop him?”

“Because we're allies,” she said, forcing herself to be calm. “We're still allies.”

“Then why did you hit me like that?” he asked. “Back at the tree?”

“I was protecting you,” she replied. “Brutus and Enobaria couldn't kill you if they couldn't see you.”

“Why me?” he demanded. “Why only me? You left yourself exposed. You left Finnick exposed, and he's - he's - I don't even know what he is to you.”

Not for the first time, she was at a loss for words on how to describe her and Finnick's relationship. Her wounded head was not making it easier to think.

_He's my lover? The love of my life?_

She needed to calm Peeta down fast, though, so in the end, all she said was, “He's my friend. My best friend.”

“Well, you left your _best friend_ exposed to the Careers, and you let them get to Beetee.”

“I - I tried to stop that - ”

“But you didn't,” said Peeta, cool blue eyes fixed on her. “And you probably would've been able to if you weren't so busy protecting _me_. Why me?”

For a moment, they were both silent, breathing hard. Athena couldn't tell him. She couldn’t tell him the truth. He was trying to hide it under a look of anger and intimidation, but Athena could see that he was confused and scared and worried, and he was just a teenager, he and Katniss were only kids, a mere two years older than Calypso. Kids who had never asked for all these people to risk so much for them. Kids who had never asked to become symbols and pieces in this secret war. Her heart sunk. But Peeta was still waiting for an answer.

She released one of the hands pinning him to the tree. He made no move to escape or attack her, staying where he was. Her hand went to her necklace, holding out the small golden ring. His eyes landed on it, his brow furrowing.

“I know things aren't clear,” she said urgently. “And that you're worried and scared, and I’m really sorry, but I'm not your enemy. I promise I'm not. And right now, we are so close to the end. You see that, don’t you? The last thing we need to do is turning on each other and getting paranoid.”

“But that’s what this is!” he burst out. “That’s what these Games are! That’s what they always are, sooner or later!”

“I know,” Athena admitted. “Trust me, I’ve known that for a long time. But maybe we shouldn’t be playing _that_ game. Maybe we never were. I don’t think you were.”

Peeta didn’t answer at first, but he didn’t deny what he was saying. Perhaps because he was aware that his intentions to protect Katniss above all else, including himself, and make sure that she was the one who made it out alive, had always been clear.

“If you're not my enemy,” he said, lifting his chin, “tell me what's going on. Tell me where Katniss is.”

“I don't know where she is - ”

“Help me find her, then.”

“Finnick's looking for her. Finnick's looking for her and Johanna, he's protecting them from Enobaria.”

“How do I know if I can trust him, either? How do I know he and Johanna won’t try to - try to hurt Katniss or - ”

“Finnick wouldn’t do that,” Athena said at once. “Finnick wouldn’t do that. Neither would Johanna. Neither would I.”

“But how can I - ?”

Peeta was cut off by a rustling noise to their left, loud enough for them to hear it even over the sounds of the clicking insects. They froze, listening hard. A few moments later, it happened to again, rustling and crackling noises like someone was struggling to move through the trees.

“Katniss?” said Peeta. He wrenched himself free of Athena’s grasp. “Katniss!”

“Peeta, no!” Athena cried out, reaching out to redouble her grip on him, because Enobaria was still out there, but he was already running away out of reach, in the direction of the rustling. Swearing under her breath, she grabbed Brutus’ spear, because as much as she didn’t like it, she figured it wouldn’t hurt to have another weapon, and ran off after him.

It was much harder to follow him this time around. Her injuries slowed her down, and often she had to use her spear as a staff to keep her upright. The clicking of the insects was only getting louder, and the only other things she could hear was the rustling noises, getting closer and closer, and Peeta yelling Katniss’ name, only getting farther. It took her a moment to realize that he wasn’t even trying to find Katniss at this point; instead, he was trying to lure threats towards him and thus away from Katniss. He was trying to keep her alive, nothing more.

Still, when the rustling became so loud that Athena knew it was right beside her, she had to wonder how he could’ve missed it and not checked to see if it was coming from Katniss herself. It soon became obvious how he might have missed it, though, because she looked all around and couldn’t find anyone. She was starting to worry that it was coming from the insects, that they had somehow stumbled into their wedge or she had come into their wedge. She only found the source of the noises when she almost tripped over it.

It was Johanna. She was on the ground, forcing herself to crawl forward even as she let out moans of pain. She was covered in tiny cuts and bleeding all over, with a particularly awful gash in her left arm and her right leg.

“Johanna!” Athena said, and knelt down beside her, grabbing her gently and propping her up against a tree. “Johanna, are you okay? What happened to you?”

“Peachy,” she replied through gritted teeth. “Hear that insect clicking? I ran into their wedge. Didn’t realize it until it was too late. They’re not friendly. And much bigger than they sound. Don’t worry,” she added, noticing the fear on Athena’s face, “I got out, and from the looks of it, they stay in their wedge.”

“Are they venomous?” Athena asked. “Do you know?”

Johanna shrugged. “I've never seen anything like them, but I don't think so. It hurts like hell, but... it was a while ago, I think if it was venomous I would know by now. I don’t suppose you have enough moss to patch me up?”

Athena bit her lip as she examined Johanna’s wounds. It seemed like the insects had tried to rip her apart. They were, thankfully, relatively shallow wounds except for the deeper gashes in her arm and leg, but there was so many of them. Athena wrapped some of the moss around the deeper gashes, but after that, didn't know what else to do. There was so much to bandage, Athena didn't even know where she would start. And there was no time.

“Figured,” Johanna said, correctly interpreting the look on Athena’s face. “Well, whatever. From the looks of it, this will be over soon. I can make it.”

Athena nodded. Neither of them dared so much as contemplate the other option, let alone risk speaking it into existence.

“Where’s Katniss?” Athena asked. “Is she - ?”

“I took care of her, we don’t need to worry anymore,” Johanna said firmly. She didn’t elaborate, and Athena didn’t ask her to do so. She knew what she meant; wherever Katniss was, it was somewhere Enobaria couldn’t hurt her and the Capitol couldn’t track her, since Johanna had already cut it out. “The two cannons. Who were they? Do you know?”

Athena nodded. “Chaff and Brutus. Brutus killed Chaff, I killed Brutus.”

“Shame,” said Johanna. “About Chaff, I mean. He deserved better. I was hoping it'd be Brutus and Enobaria. Make things a lot easier.”

“You didn't run into Enobaria at all?” Athena asked.

Johanna shook her head. “I tried luring them away from you guys and towards me, but I don't know if it worked.”

“It did,” Athena said. “You bought us some time. They still got to Beetee, though. He's not dead, but badly wounded. He was passed out when me and Finnick left.”

“Where is Finnick?” Johanna asked, looking around as though Finnick was hiding and waiting to come out.

“We split up,” said Athena. “When you started yelling, Enobaria went after you. Brutus saw Chaff and went after him, and then Peeta went after Brutus to try and stop him from hurting Chaff. I went after Peeta and Brutus, Finnick went after Enobaria.”

Johanna nodded. “And where is Peeta?”

“You haven’t seen him?” asked Athena, her heart sinking, dread and fear filling her.

“Should I have?” Johanna said. “He wasn’t my responsibility. I think I heard him being an idiot and yelling Katniss’ name, but other than that...”

“I lost him after I killed Brutus,” Athena shook her head. “I think right now he's just trying to save Katniss. You know, luring everyone close to him to keep them away from her.”

Athena sighed, leaning back so that her heels hit the ground. She buried her face in her hands momentarily, trying to ignore the clicking insects, trying to think. There hadn't been another cannon since she had killed Brutus. That meant Finnick, Katniss, Peeta, and Beetee were all still alive. And so was Enobaria. What was the next move, then? The best thing for her to do? Track down Finnick and make sure he was holding up well with Enobaria? She wanted so badly to be back with Finnick it ached like one of her wounds, but they still had a job to do, and she wasn't sure if this was the best thing for the mission. Should she track down Enobaria herself? Johanna was far too weak to fight, and even Athena wasn't in peak physical condition after her fight with Brutus, but she might still be able to take her and at least subdue her for the rest of the night. Or should she find Peeta, make sure he didn't find some way to get himself killed in an attempt to protect Katniss?

Athena removed her hands from her face and looked up at the night sky. Her eyes found the full moon. From the looks of it, it was about eleven-thirty. They had thirty minutes until lightning struck the tree and they lost what might be their only chance to destroy the force field. All of this would be for nothing if they didn't blow a hole in the force field so that District Thirteen's hovercrafts could come for them. She knew at once where they needed to go.

“Come on,” Athena said with a sigh, looking back at Johanna. “If I hold you up, could you walk?”

“We can find out,” Johanna said, holding out her hands.

Athena reached out and pulled her carefully to her feet, wrapping Johanna’s arm around her shoulders so that she was supporting most of her weight. Johanna wasn’t that heavy, but Athena was weakened from her fight with Brutus and had to brace herself against a tree for several moments until she felt strong and grounded enough to continue on while supporting Johanna. They set off back uphill in the direction that Athena was pretty sure was towards the lightning tree. They had to move slow, Athena using her spear as a staff to move them along, since Athena was injured as it was and having to support an even worse-off Johanna didn't help matters. Johanna would let out grunts of pain every time she moved, but the insect clicking drowned them out so much that even Athena could barely hear them. She was more worried about whether Johanna would make it through tonight than if any enemies would hear them.

When the clicking noises began to fade away slowly and gradually was when Athena really started to worry. If the insects were starting to die down and retreat, that meant it wasn’t long until midnight. It wasn’t long until lightning would strike. They had to reach the tree in time.

“Come on,” she hissed to Johanna, forcing herself to pick up the pace. “Come on...”

Peeta was still screaming out Katniss’ name, calling for her. He seemed some distance away, but not too far. It was only when Katniss called back to him, screaming, “Peeta! Peeta! I’m here! Peeta!” that Athena realized they were on the right track and almost at the tree.

“Jesus,” Johanna hissed from beside her. “They’re just as fucking stupid as each other.”

“Isn’t that what romance is?” Athena whispered back to her.

“I guess you’d know.”

Athena thought about Finnick’s warm lips on hers, their bodies pressed together as they hid away in the bushes. She pushed the thought from her mind and said to Johanna, “Shut up.”

Just as the clicking noises had almost died down entirely, the tree came into view about thirty-five yards away. She could see Beetee, still propped up against the tree, unconscious. She could also see the outline of someone she was pretty sure was Katniss, judging by the bow and arrow she was holding. Some distance away downhill, Enobaria was running into sight, shortly followed (to Athena's immense relief, though she had already known the lack of cannon must've meant he was still alive) by Finnick. Immediately, before Enobaria could make any further moves, Finnick attacked and they were locked into combat. Finnick had the upper hand on her, but Athena kept a close watch on them from the corner of her eye anyway, in case he needed any backup. Athena had to squint a little to see Katniss better, given the fact that her ointment caused her to blend in with the jungle; she was wrapping something around one of her arrows. It took her a moment to realize it was Beetee’s wire.

Athena frowned, her mind already racing. There was only one reason why Katniss would be doing such a thing. She aimed to blow a hole in the force field. Was Beetee actually awake? He seemed quite still - frighteningly so, in fact. Had Katniss managed to rouse Beetee long enough to get him to explain his plans to her? She didn’t know. It didn’t matter either, really. Either way, for whatever reason, Katniss was fulfilling this last, important part of the mission on Beetee’s half. She pointed one of her arrows upward, as though getting an idea of its trajectory, of how she she needed to aim.

Athena looked skyward. The arena was a dome. If Katniss shot her area upward, it would eventually hit the force field. The sky was clear of any obstacles - except for the giant metal disk moving about in the sky. It was a little smaller than a hovercraft. She could see the Capitol symbol imprinted on it even from this distance, meaning it had to be a Capitol machine. She had never seen it before, meaning it must be hidden most of the time. She had no idea what it was supposed to be for, though. It couldn’t be for dropping gifts from sponsors or picking up dead tributes, because that was the hovercraft’s job; besides, no other tributes had died since Brutus (though, she supposed with an unpleasant swoop of her stomach, Beetee looked frighteningly close to death), and she doubted they would try to drop any gifts from sponsors in the midst of all this chaos. It would all end now, soon; even those who weren’t in on the mission had to see that. So what was the purpose of that disk?

Suddenly, she remembered dancing with Seneca Crane at some Capitol event a few years ago, before Snow had him killed for letting both Katniss and Peeta live and indirectly putting them in the mess they were all in now. He was talking about the Games as he twirled her around and around the room so much that, in her minorly intoxicated state, she had wanted to vomit. He mentioned some device that was piloted by the Gamemakers from their control room. It was usually kept invisible and allowed for them to get aerial shots of the arena and the tributes. This had to be it. Perhaps it was malfunctioning and that was why it was visible right now.

Why was it right above their heads, though? Was it simply trying to capture all the action from above since all the remaining tributes were so close together? Or was it trying to block Katniss? How could it possibly know what she aimed to do? Athena didn’t know. It didn’t matter. It seemed to have no intention of moving, and if it didn’t move, it was quite likely Katniss would miss her shot. They couldn’t afford to have Katniss miss her shot.

“It needs to come down,” Athena whispered. “It needs to come down...”

“What?” Johanna said from behind her, still leaning into her heavily. “What are you talking about?”

Athena looked away from the sky and over at Johanna. Her heart sank at the sight of the amount of blood Johanna had lost. She seemed to be fighting to keep consciousness.

“Come on,” Athena said to her. “You should lie down.”

“I’m not going to fucking _lie down_ , Athena - ” Johanna began, and made to move away from her, but then she swayed dangerously and had to clutch onto Athena to remain upright.

“You’re lying down,” Athena said firmly, and set her down gently on the ground away from the danger over by the lightning tree. Afraid of what would happen if Johanna slipped into unconsciousness, she added, “Try to stay awake.”

Athena looked up at the moon again. It was close to midnight. The clicking of the insects was gone entirely now. The lightning would strike the tree at any moment now. She looked back up towards the disk. It had to come down. Her eyes scanned all around her. She moved towards a nearby tree, shoved her spear into her belt, and with some difficulty, began to scale it. She couldn't climb quite like Katniss could, especially not with her injuries, but she managed to hoist herself up onto a branch that provided her a clear shot at the disk.

She stood slowly, leaning against the trunk of the tree, with only the hope that the branch was as strong as it looked and would be able to hold her weight. She grabbed her first spear, raised it, aiming for the disk. She took a deep breath. She let the spear fly. It nearly missed her target, before it sunk into the bottom part of the disk. The disk gave a tumultuous shudder, before beginning to move away, as though away from the threat. It was slowed down by the hit, but not enough. It was still blocking Katniss’ shot.

As such, Athena picked up another spear, aimed it, and threw it towards the disk. It lodged itself about two or three feet in front of the first. It gave another shudder, the damage more visible, its pace a little quicker as it moved away from the tree, but it still wasn’t enough. She threw her next spear. It lodged itself beside her second spear. The entire disk shook, now irreversibly damaged, before beginning to sink slowly. But that was no good. It was still blocking Katniss’ shot, and if it sunk right down, it would endanger everyone by the tree.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Enobaria aim her knife at her. Before she could throw it, Finnick, who still appeared to be in decent shape, stabbed her in the back of her knees, sending her onto her knees, before tackling her to the ground. With that threat out of the way, Athena picked up her fourth spear. This was her last one. She had to get this one just right. She took a moment to steady herself, to gather up every ounce of strength she had left in her. She couldn’t miss.

Slowly, she raised her spear, aiming it carefully, whispering, “Panem today.”

She took a deep breath, in and out, before throwing it with all her might toward the disk. It sunk right into the center of the disk with a force that surprised even her, and began at once to move away from the tree much more rapidly, sinking all the while. It kept going, apparently out of even the Gamemaker’s control, until it flew right into the forcefield about fifty yards away from them. The force of the impact was so great that they were all knocked off-kilter, and Athena herself had to grab onto the trunk of the tree to keep herself from crashing to the ground. The disk, now fried and utterly destroyed, dropped to the ground with an almighty crash that almost seemed to echo.

No more aerial shots. There were cameras in other places, though. But more importantly, the way was clear for Katniss. She could destroy the force field now. Athena looked up at the moon once more. It was almost time. It would be any second now.

She climbed back down the tree, landing heavily back on the ground. Johanna was staring at her, as alert as Athena had seen her since reuniting with her, her expression stunned and awed and undeniably impressed. She looked like she might have smiled or even laughed if she had the strength for it.

Knowing she had done the job, Athena sank to her knees. With grim satisfaction, she finished the rest of the motto.

“Panem forever.”

 

*

 

Finnick was running through the trees, sprinting as fast as he could downhill without losing control. He kept an almost painfully tight grip on his trident the entire time he ran. He needed to find Enobaria, or perhaps just find Johanna and Katniss before Enobaria could get to them. He used the now limp, severed coil as his guide as he ran, letting him know he was on the right track. He was straining his ears for any sign of noise, but this became almost futile when the clicking of the insects started up again. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that everything always seemed louder in the dark, but they seemed much louder than they had been during the day.

He slowed to a stop when he reached where the coil had been cut. He lifted up the end of the wire, examining the severed end. This couldn't be an accident, the result of the wire getting caught on some jagged rock or rough tree bark. This was the result of neat, deliberate cutting from a knife. The work of the Careers, no doubt. Finnick released the wire, tossing it aside. There was no use for it now.

He looked around him, examining the vicinity. His eyes were drawn almost immediately to the blood, on the leaves, on the bark, in the dirt, seemingly everywhere. His heart contracted unpleasantly. Whose blood could it be? Johanna's? Katniss’? Or Enobaria's? He forced himself not to panic, swallowed his worry down, reigned in his anxiety. He couldn't afford to lose it now. None of them could.

His eyes scanned the rest of the area, looking desperately for any sign of life. He found none. He was trying desperately to hear any sort of subtle noise that indicated movement, but this was near impossible due to the clicking of the insects.

“Johanna?” he called cautiously into the night. “Katniss?”

No response. They must not be there. They couldn't be dead, or a cannon would've sounded by now. But they could be dying, too weakened to respond, or unconscious, or -

_Focus. You have to stay focused on what's in front of you._

He had enough experience keeping a tight control of his emotions that he managed to collect himself quickly enough. Now able to think logically and rationally again, his eyes landed on the blood again. It had that shiny quality to it that meant it was still fresh. He noticed it left a faint trail into a different direction. It was the only lead he had now that he had reached the point where the wire was cut off. Moving as quickly and quietly as he could, he adjusted his grip on his trident and followed the trail.

The trail of blood faded into nothingness before long, which didn’t surprise Finnick considering how faint it was. He just continued on in its direction. It was getting harder to listen to anything that wasn’t the clicking of the insects, which was only becoming louder and louder. It wasn’t until it was so loud that it was roaring in his ears and echoing in his mind, feeling like it was coming from right in front of him, that he realized he must have been approaching the insects’ wedge. He promptly changed course, heading instead in a different direction. He was in a bad enough position as it was without dealing with whatever those insects were. The clicking didn’t die down as much as he wanted it to, but when it stopped sounding like it was coming from right by him, he allowed himself to calm down a little bit. It still seemed to be like it was all there was in the arena, blocking out any other noise.

Well, almost any other noise, because when the cannon sounded, Finnick heard it loud and clear. It made him stop dead in his tracks. Who could it be? Was it Beetee? He was so injured, but he had seemed relatively strong given his injuries when he and Athena left him... maybe it was someone else. He thought about the blood he had just seen. That could’ve been from Johanna or Katniss or Enobaria or maybe even Brutus, depending on when exactly the altercation occurred. Was the death one of them? Or maybe it was someone else entirely, from an event entirely different. Brutus or Chaff or Peeta or -

He didn’t want to think about the last option.

He would drive himself insane thinking of all the options, so he forced his feet to move and continued running. He didn’t know if he was getting close to anything or just making himself lost. He made himself stop to find his footing again, figure out what to do next. He was panting hard, but he could barely hear it over the clicking of the insects. Sweat dripped down from his temple as he tried to think. He looked around. He wasn’t as great as climbing as Katniss was, but if he could manage to climb up one of the trees and get a look at the arena from higher ground, he could find the lightning tree and reorient himself, maybe see some of the other tributes and figure out who was alive and dead.

He had just decided on this and was approaching one of the trees when the cannon fired, and again, he stopped dead involuntarily, his whole body tense. Two dead now. His mind flickered through a list of all the remaining tributes once more (he passed over Athena quickly; he could not allow himself to even consider it), but it could have been anyone, for all he knew. The only way he could figure it out was if he could get a look from higher ground. He was about to begin climbing when he heard the rustling noise. Loud enough that he could hear it over the clicking insects. Distinctly human.

Instinctively, he shrunk back behind the tree, using some of the foliage to conceal himself, glad that the ointment made him seem sort of shadowy and allowed him to blend into the jungle. Hardly daring to breathe, he waited for the source of the noise to reveal themselves, and sure enough a tall, lean figure emerged from the trees. Enobaria. She was looking all around, as though trying to find someone. He wondered if she was still continuing her search for Johanna or maybe Katniss. Either way, even though her eyes passed over him several times, apparently the ointment provided such effective camouflage that she didn’t seem to see him.

This was the best opportunity he was going to get to end things, he realized. Finnick knew Enobaria well enough to know that she wouldn’t stop. As long as she could still move, she would fight to take out as many of them as she could. He could not risk letting her. When he raised his trident, as slowly and subtly and silently as he could manage amidst the bushes, it was aimed at her stomach. One straight shot and she would be down. He knew he wouldn’t miss. It might not kill her. She might survive it. But she would be incapacitated for the rest of the night for sure. And if it _did_ kill her... Finnick forced down revulsion and self-hatred and reminded himself that Enobaria would do the same to him or any of his allies in a heartbeat if she had half a chance.

He was just about to let his trident fly when the voice sounded.

“Katniss? Katniss! Katniss!”

Peeta. His voice, while audible over the clicking insects, seemed to be coming from some great distance away. What was he doing? He couldn’t be foolish enough to think this was a good way of locating her? And where was Athena? Surely she wouldn’t let him give away his location so recklessly if she was there. Had she not found Peeta? Had she lost him again? Or had one of those cannons signaled... no. He didn’t let himself think about it. Peeta must have been trying to give away his location on purpose, luring enemies away from Katniss and towards him. It worked, because as Peeta continued calling loudly for Katniss, Enobaria took a step in the direction of his voice. Finnick lifted his trident again, aiming to stop her before she could get close enough to cause any destruction, but then the second voice came.

“Peeta! Peeta! I’m here! Peeta!”

Katniss this time. Clearly trying to do for Peeta what Peeta was trying to do for her. Finnick refrained from sighing. Those two were mad from a desire to protect each other. They would get everyone in this arena killed.

In some part of his mind, Finnick realized that, since Katniss, Peeta, and Enobaria were clearly still alive, the two deaths had to be either Johanna or Beetee or Brutus or - or Athena. Now that the list had been narrowed down so much, he seemed forced to think of the possibility, as painful and terrifying as it was.

Enobaria hesitated for a split second, as though deciding which threat she was more eager to take out. Katniss was deadly with her bow. Enobaria had seen this firsthand, but she hadn’t seen much of Peeta in a fight. Katniss’ voice was closer. That much was clear. This seemed to make up Enobaria’s mind, because she broke into a run towards Katniss’ voice. Swearing under his breath, Finnick lowered his trident and ran after her.

He tried to make himself quiet, but he was much more concerned with not letting her out of her sight, so she heard his footsteps before long. She saw him behind her and immediately began running in zigzags between the trees so that he couldn't aim his trident at her and hit her from behind. Occasionally, she would aim one of her knives at him, but she wasn't stopping to aim properly and he would always dodge with ease. Eventually, she was down to two knives. She seemed to realize that she would miss and didn't want to lose her last two weapons when there were still other tributes to take out. She turned and quickened her pace, continuing to run in zigzags. Finnick raced after her.

By the time the lightning tree was coming into sight, the clicking of the insects was thankfully dying down. The only problem was that meant they were running out of time before midnight. Finnick had to make sure that they could use the lightning strike to blow a hole in the force field. This would be their only chance.

He took a split second to examine the area. The place seemed deserted except for Beetee. His knife that Athena had given him was now without its wire, which made him frown. Someone must have taken it, but who? Probably Katniss, considering her voice had seemed to come from here, but he couldn't find her. The ointment was probably hiding her the way it had hid him, and she hadn't quite decided to come out yet. That was fine with him. Enobaria couldn't kill what she couldn't see. He made himself examine Beetee a little closer; he was horribly still, but Finnick was close enough to see the slight rise and fall of his chest. Alive. Still alive, if only just.

Enobaria seemed to realize that at the same time as Finnick and made to race over to Beetee to finish what she had started, but Finnick raised his trident and charged at her. Enobaria only narrowly dodged the points of his trident, and just like that, they were locked in combat, his trident against her two knives. They attacked and blocked and dodged at lightning speed. They were running out of time, though. The noises of the insects had died down almost entirely, which meant midnight was close. He needed to find that wire and blow a hole in the force field.

At that moment, he detected a flash of movement and saw Katniss, further uphill. She was holding an arrow, pointing it skyward, as though getting an idea of where she needed to send it. At the sight of the arrow wrapped in wire, the other end of the wire wrapped firmly around the lightning tree, he realized at once that somehow, Katniss had put together Beetee's true plan and was going to execute it for him now that he was unconscious. Finnick sidestepped gracefully, both to dodge Enobaria's knife slashing at him and to block Katniss from her view.

as long as he could without opening himself up to attack from Enobaria, Finnick looked skyward. From the position of the moon, midnight and its lightning strike were almost upon them, and one thing was stopping Katniss from making her clear shot at the force field above. There was a great metal disk with the Capitol seal imprinted on it. It took several moments for Finnick to recognize it as the device the Gamemakers piloted from their control room to get aerial shots of the arena. It must have been malfunctioning somehow for him to be seeing it; typically, it was invisible. It made sense to be hovering here, when most of the remaining tributes were all there, but it was blocking the angle that was Katniss’ best chance at hitting the force field. Any other angle would be nearly impossible, even for someone as good with a bow as Katniss. If it didn't move there would be no chance.

Just as the thought came to his mind, a spear lodged itself into the disk. Its appearance made them all freeze. Everything seemed oddly silent now. The insects were gone entirely now. There was only their breathing and Peeta howling for Katniss some distance away. The first spear was quickly followed by two others. The disk gave a violent shudder, drifting away slowly and beginning to sink, but it wasn't enough. It seemed more likely to descend upon them now, and the way was still blocked for Katniss. Finnick was looking around desperately, trying to find her. There was only one person that could be coming from. The only other person with a spear was Brutus, and he did not throw with this much accuracy. She, on the other hand, did not miss.

The relief when he saw her was dizzying. She was under forty yards away, standing on a thick tree branch with a look of grim determination on her face. Her fingers were tightening around her fourth and final spear. She seemed to realize this was her last chance. Enobaria found her too, and raised her knife to aim it Athena. Finnick acted at once.

“ _No!_ ” he growled, stabbing her in the back of her knees. As she was fell, he tackled her to the ground. The force of it, combined with the fact that she hadn't been expecting it, made her drop her knives.

They were immediately engaged in hand-to-hand combat, but they both froze when the fourth and final spear lodged into the center of the disk. Finnick almost smiled, looking on with something that felt quite like pride, as he watched the disk, now utterly ruined and out of even the Gamemaker’s control, went spiralling into the force field about fifty yards away. The size of the disk and the force that it hit the force field caused a force of impact so great that they were all thrown off-kilter, throwing Finnick off of Enobaria. The disk, charred and with sparks shooting out of it from the force field, fell to the ground with a crash that shook the earth beneath them.

And then Katniss was rising, her bow and wire-wrapped arrow aimed towards the sky. Enobaria was rising to her feet, raising her knife once again and was about to throw it at Katniss’ heart. Finnick, however, leapt to his feet, and, taking a leaf from Athena’s book, hit her around the head with the shaft of his trident. As she was falling, he kicked her with enough force to send her flying, crashing into a tree. She slumped to the ground, unconscious, just as Katniss let her arrow fly. There was no cannon. Enobaria wasn't dead. He didn't care. He could finish the job within seconds now, but it didn't matter. It was over. The arrow hit its mark and vanished, pulling the thread of golden wire along with it.

Finnick looked around. Katniss had finished the job. Now all that was left was to find everyone who had been left behind, bring them close together so that they could all be rescued. He couldn’t hear Peeta anymore. There hadn’t been another cannon, though, so he couldn’t be dead. He knew now that Athena was alive, and he could see Johanna in the distance, meaning she was alive too. That left Chaff and Brutus as the ones who had been killed. If Brutus was dead and the potentially deadly insects were gone, what was left to harm Peeta? He had to be alive. Had he given up on saving Katniss? It seemed unlikely, though. So where was he?

Finnick needed to act. He was running out of time. Instinctively, his eyes searched for her. She was hard to see with the way the ointment blended her into the jungle, but his eyes managed to find her the way they always seemed so adept at doing. And then it was her. Just her. It was the last thing he saw, her face, before the lightning struck the tree, causing the hair on Finnick’s neck to stand on end, a flash of light ran up the wire, the dome burst into dazzling blue light, and the explosions started. Athena was the last thing he saw before the sky fell down.

 

*

 

Katniss’ arrow was flying, flying, flying through the air. Athena was watching it as it flew from the sky, hitting its mark and vanishing as it pulled the thread of gold along with it. She wished her injured body would work as fast as her mind. She was trying, with difficulty, to rise to her feet. Now that she had allowed herself to sink to her knees, it was becoming hard to lift herself back up again. There was still more for her to do. There was Johanna to take care of, Peeta to find. Their trackers to be cut out. Any relief she might have felt by the sight of Katniss shooting at the force field was gone. They were still in so much danger, and they were running out of time. Time. It had once felt like she had so much of it, too much, it felt like it dragged on and on and on, it felt like she was trapped in it, a sort of prison from which there was only one escape. How could she have felt so foolish? All of a sudden, she was wishing that some of that time could somehow be transferred to now, that she could buy it back. As she struggled to get up and keep moving, Athena remembered Snow’s words when he announced the twist of this year’s Quarter Quell.

“...as a reminder to the rebels that even the strongest among them cannot overcome the power of the Capitol...”

Yes, Snow had done this on purpose. Cut their time short on purpose. To remind them that he had all the power, that their lives were in his hands and always had been. But now his precious arena was being destroyed and District Thirteen could come along and rescue several of the tributes and there would be no victors and this would doubtlessly embolden the rest of the districts to start a full-scale rebellion and he was losing it, his power he was so willing to do anything to keep. But that couldn’t happen if she didn’t ensure that the rest of the tributes were safe, she knew that. She felt so weak, though, her head spinning dangerously as she tried to rise. It took everything she had not to panic.

When her eyes found Finnick's, bright green eyes boring into hers, there was a moment of peace. She felt her heart lift slightly in her chest. She knew it was impossible, but she wanted to make her way back to him. She wanted to be with him when it ended.

And then Katniss’ arrow hit the force field and the whole world exploded.

 

*

 

As the electricity that raced along the wire hit the force field, Finnick was thrown backward to the ground. He was winded, momentarily paralyzed, his body useless. Everything erupted at once when the explosions began. The earth exploded into a shower of dirt and plant matter. Trees burst into flame and fell to the ground, branches and twigs breaking off and crashing down below. Even the sky was filled with brightly coloured blossoms of light. In the arena, it was night, but the arena was falling apart and he could see bits of daylight peeking through, shining down upon him.

He could feel himself regaining movement in his body. He acted as quickly as his still slightly dazed mind would allow. He took out one of his knives and dug it into his arm, right where his tracker was. With difficulty, he managed to yank out his tracker, placing it on the ground and stabbing it again and again until it was nothing but useless, broken fragments. His arm was gushing blood. He had cut too deep. He didn't care. He had other things with which to concern himself. He needed to find Athena and Johanna and Peeta, he needed to make sure they were all safe.

He tried to lift himself onto his feet and stumble towards them, but at that moment, a large, thick branch, fell to the ground, trapping his legs so that he fell face first onto the dirt with a weight crushing his legs. He didn't think any bones were broken, but the pain was overwhelming. Before he had the chance to free himself, the trunk of a tree fell across his back. He cried out in pain, bracing himself by burying his fingers in the damp earth as the pain set him afire. It was a thin, smaller tree (had it been larger, it would have killed him for sure), but still too heavy for him to be able to free himself, especially with the weight crushing his legs. He couldn’t move. He was trapped, stuck here.

Blood was dripping from his arm into the earth below, giving the dirt a darker, shinier quality to it. He watched it for several moments, before tearing his eyes away and looking around him, at as much of the scene as he could see. He knew he would pass out from the pain before long and he wanted to assess the situation as much as he could before it happened. He still had no way of knowing where the hell Peeta was in all of this. Finnick tried calling for him, but the pain and the smoke from the fires coming into his lungs were making it hard to breathe properly, so his voice didn’t carry the way he wanted. In some part of his mind, he was panicking about that. It was muted, though, almost in the background. It would probably come to the forefront if he didn’t get out of there fast, but he had no hope of escaping until the hovercraft came to rescue them. Finnick couldn’t see Athena or Johanna anymore. He was sort of disoriented, but he was pretty sure he was facing away from them now, and in any case, a wall of fire isolated him from all but Katniss and Beetee. In his mind, he apologized to Athena, to Johanna, and to Peeta over and over again, because he could not help them. He could not save them. The only thing he had was the possibility, the hope that Haymitch, Plutarch, and District Thirteen would do it for him. His mental apologies didn’t feel like enough, because he knew they weren’t.

Katniss, he knew to his relief, was safe. This was a good thing for more than the obvious reason, since it meant they had technically succeeded in their mission. The mockingjay had been rescued. The rebellion would live. From where he was lying he could see the hovercraft claw lifting the reluctant symbol of hope up. It couldn't be the Capitol. None of them had their trackers in anymore. He watched them lift Beetee’s lifeless form next. He was safe. Maybe they would be able to help him, _properly_ help him. Finnick wondered what sort of medical facilities they had in District Thirteen. It had to be something good, for them to survive underground essentially all on their own for seventy-five years...

Finnick had no idea what would become of Johanna and Peeta. He could only pray that District Thirteen’s hovercraft would pick them up. He felt guilt tugging at him, pulling him closer and closer past the point of insanity. He should have done more. Why hadn’t he done more? Johanna was his friend, a younger sister in a way, and he had left her on her own... and he knew Peeta wasn’t supposed to be a priority the way Katniss was a priority, but he didn’t care. He was important too. He deserved the protection too. He did not deserve to die in here, no one did, he deserved to escape it to see better days... but Finnick had no idea where he was now. He had failed them both.

As for Athena... Finnick had thought it was impossible to feel more pain, and yet he could feel his chest tightening painfully, not just from the weight crushing him as he wondered where she was, how she was holding up. But he ought not be so worried. He had made a deal with Haymitch and Plutarch, after all. They had a deal... Finnick and Athena might just be pieces in this plan, but between the two of them, it had been agreed that Athena would be the priority. He wasn't going to District Thirteen if she wasn't... they would save her first, she would be fine...

Besides Beetee’s and Katniss’ confirmed safety, it was the only comfort Finnick had, and so he clung to it with everything he had. He felt the pain lessen, and wondered if the idea of Athena’s safety was so much of a relief to him that it made the weight pressing down on him feel lighter, until he realized that that wasn’t true and that the relief he felt was coming from the trunk of the tree and the branch being lifted from him. He wondered who could possibly be this strong at a time like this, until he felt the four-pronged claw seizing him and he realized that he was being rescued next.

He didn’t resist, letting himself be lifted into the air. His whole body was limp, his limbs dangling in the sky as a breeze caught it. The blood was now running steadily down his arm, dripping onto the ground. Soon he was so high up that he couldn’t see where it landed. He realized now that he was in the air he could use the few, precious seconds of this special vantage point to figure out where the others were. Before he could actually act on his thoughts, though, everything seemed to fade away. Like nothing he saw was real, the way this arena had never been real. Slowly, and then all at once, Finnick blacked out.

 

*

 

Athena was trapped. The explosions that begun sent her flying back onto the ground. As everything fell apart and dissolved into complete and utter chaos, a thick, heavy tree trunk had fallen across her legs. With difficulty, Athena had pushed herself up into a sitting position. She figured her upper body strength was in a good enough position that she could push the branches off of her. From there, she had figured she’d... well, she wasn’t sure exactly. Even if her legs weren’t broken, they were so weakened that Athena doubted she would’ve been able to walk. But if not walk, she would have crawled, would have used her arms to drag herself forward if that was what it meant to reach the others and ensure their safety. Several of her weapons were gone, but she did have two knives still. That was enough. Enough to cut out any trackers that remained, including her own.

At that moment, though, a surprisingly large, heavy tree branch fell upon her and landed on her chest, pushing her back to the ground. The weight of the branch and the force of the impact was not enough to kill her, but the pain was so excruciating that, along with the pain from previous injuries from which she had not yet had the chance to recover, it was all she could do not to blackout. As though to add to her pain, two other branches, admittedly smaller than the first to fall on her, landed on her arms, pinning them down to the ground. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t reach the others. She couldn’t cut out her own tracker, let alone someone else’s. She couldn't even breathe, with the weight pressing down on her chest and the smoke filling her lungs when she did manage to inhale.

Had Johanna removed her tracker? She had no way of knowing when it came to Peeta, something that filled her with worry and fear and guilt, but what about Johanna? Athena racked her brain, but she was having trouble remembering. She had been stupid enough not to ask. There were so many cuts on her arms, maybe the insects had gotten to the place the tracker was inserted and Johanna had had the sense to rip it out. She had already taken out Beetee's tracker, and Johanna had taken out Katniss’. That left Finnick. What was happening with him? Had he managed to take out his tracker? She could only hope. She couldn't see him or anyone now. Flames and wreckage blocked them all from view. This was no place for someone like her, so close to open, uncontrollable flame and so far from the water. Perhaps Katniss was in her element, though... the Girl on Fire...

Katniss was taken care of, at least. Johanna had removed her tracker and she had succeeded in destroying the force field. Unless some horrible misfortune occurred where Snow managed to grab hold of her, she was safe. The mission had technically succeeded. As relieved as she was that Katniss would be okay, she couldn’t feel too overjoyed when she had no idea what would become of the others. Finnick and Beetee had a decent chance, close as they had been to Katniss, but she didn’t know. She didn’t _know_ , and it was pushing her closer and closer to the edge. But the mission was accomplished, and they had all agreed to the plan with the knowledge that things might not end up well for them, had agreed to put her life above all else (Athena did not envy Katniss in the slightest; on the contrary, she felt horrible, both for her and over what she was aiding in doing to her. This was a burden she would never want to bear, and it was being forced upon her). This was the result.

Even if their trackers were still in, it didn’t necessarily mean that they were doomed, she knew. Cutting out their trackers and destroying them just meant that the Capitol couldn’t track them, which would delay any attempt to capture them. All the same, they still had a chance. She hoped the others would be rescued first. She hoped they found safety first. She wished there was some way to guarantee it. Her eyes drifted to the flames that were around her. They surrounded her in what was close to a full circle. Suddenly, she got an idea.

She stretched her hand out until she felt her fingers wrap around a stick. When she had a solid enough grasp on it, she threw it with all her might towards the fire. The effect was immediate; as the stick caught fire, the flames spread until at last she was in the middle of a complete ring of fire. The flames rose higher, too, until they were almost twice her height. The smoke was near unbearable, choking her and making her eyes water, but she done what she wanted to do. She hoped the circle of fire surrounding her would draw the attention of the District Thirteen _and_ Capitol hovercrafts, similar to the way sailors in distress would send signals to indicate to those on the land that they needed help. From there, there were two options. One, the District Thirteen hovercraft would reach the area first and rescue them, or two, the Capitol would be drawn to her, and while they were busy getting her, Haymitch, Plutarch, and District Thirteen would be able to save some of the others.

 _I’m sorry,_ she thought, as though her message might spread telepathically to her allies. _I’m sorry. This is all I can do for you. I’m sorry, this is all I can do..._

If it was the Capitol that ended up getting to her, she sincerely hoped she died before they could get their hands on her. She would be better off dead. If they were really lucky, the suffocation and the pain would kill her, and by the time Snow realized he had wasted precious time on a dead girl, it would be far too late.

Everything was still falling apart around her, dissolving into flames and ruin as explosions went off all around. The explosions were so great that it had seemed to her at first that the whole world was falling down, but she could see glimpses, tiny flashes, of the outside world. It seemed to be daytime out there, in contrast to the darkness of the arena. She stared up at it, and found it brought her no comfort. There was more, she knew, but the sky looked so blank. So empty. Like there was nothing there. Perhaps there was no life outside of the arena. Perhaps there never had been. Perhaps she had been foolish and naive to think there was.

The hovercraft was appearing high above her. She didn't know if it was District Thirteen or the Capitol. No doubt District Thirteen had had the foresight to make sure the hovercraft they sent in resembled the Capitol hovercrafts so that the Capitol could stay in the dark about what was actually occurring. Maybe they always used this method, observing all of Panem without anyone being aware of it. The hovercraft released something that was now descending slowly, steadily upon her. It was not the ladder that dropped to collect the victor at the end of the Games. Instead, it was the claw that was used to collect dead tributes. Was she dead? Or maybe she was dying. It didn't feel like much of a stretch. She certainly felt like she was.

Before she went, Athena tried to think of good things. Happy things. Beautiful things. As if her mind refused to cooperate with her, it went to her father, then Mags, then Penelope and Talisa, then Siren Irvin. But that was no good. Too painful. She felt enough pain already. She tried again. Kai Emerson, Rowan Lindell, Cara Savera, Marjorie Hopper. Again. Burton Angora, Gwenith Miller, Cane Thorn, Angus Keld, Nolan Bedford, Lumen Flux, Brutus Oreta. Again. Paige Yarnn, Nina Brites, Genevieve Moselle, Apollo Byke, Casey Turbo. It felt so impossible to draw up the thought of even one good thing that she almost sobbed at the helplessness of it all. But she couldn’t sob because she could barely breathe because the weight was still pressing down on her chest and the smoke was still filling her lungs. She closed her eyes, forced herself to focus. She could feel herself blacking out, powerless to stop it. These were her last conscious moments, possibly ever. She had to make them good.

She still had her necklace on; she could feel the pendant and the ring against her throat. She thought about her mother, the way she looked as her eyes were glued to the pages of a book, wearing her reading glasses and a look of concentration. She thought about Calypso, all their banter and bickering and inside jokes. She thought about the three of them together, dancing and singing around the house. She thought about Annie’s singing, the smile she’d get sometimes when she was sitting at the beach with the waves crashing at her ankles. Roman and Casper, the way they’d roar with laughters as jokes flew between them. Noah and Murphy wrestling outside nearly every day, the way the three of them would salute each other every time they passed, their own little joke. Lillian, with her photobook full of memories she would never forget, reading outside every chance she got and lending her books and wanting full reviews back because it was her way of sharing herself with others again. Hudson, barking about orders and bustling about her ship and trying to look detached when she felt pleased or proud. Everyone on the docks, laughing and joking easily and passing whiskey between them. She thought about the ocean back home. The beach here, the way even this wretched arena managed to look beautiful as the sun rose. Finnick’s dimpled smile when she told him she remembered everything too. Finnick. _Finnick_.

She clung to the images in her head, forced them to stay vivid in her mind as the claw lifted everything that was keeping her trapped against the ground. First both tree trunks, allowing her to breathe a little easier, taking gasping, shuddering breaths. Then the branches at her arms. She was free. She still couldn’t move, though. She felt numb, frozen where she was. The metal talons slid under her and she was being lifted slowly but surely into the air. The further she got from the smoke, the easier she could breathe, though she was still struggling with it more than she would have liked. The breeze caught her hair, blowing it gently, pleasantly, She opened her eyes just long enough to see her rising closer and closer towards the hovercraft. before her eyes drifted shut again. Athena kept the images she had painstakingly brought to mind only moments ago in her head, running through them over and over in her head as she slipped out of consciousness. It was Finnick’s laugh Athena was thinking about when she finally blacked out.


	24. XXIII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has decided to read this story - the first few chapters of the next story will be up next week :)
> 
> Happy Reading.

**XXIII**

 

Athena woke up suddenly. She kept her eyes closed. She felt like the weight was still pressing down on her chest. She struggled to breathe, gasping and all but hyperventilating for several moments until she realized nothing was pressed against her chest and suffocating her. All the same, it took her several long moments to remember how to breathe properly and compose herself. Even when she was a little more calm, she still felt like there was something pressing down on her, like ghosts were trying to push her down until she sunk through the floor and disappeared into nothingness. It was suffocating in its own way, even as she continued to breathe. She was trying to think straight, but something kept clouding her mind, forcing her to fight just to stay awake. She took a moment to brace herself, before opening her eyes. She squinted at first, against the light of the sun - but, no, it wasn’t the sun, she realized once her eyes had adjusted to it. It was artificial light.

She wasn’t in the arena anymore. She was somewhere seemingly far away from that jungle, away from the explosions and the fires and the lightning strikes. She was, instead, alone in a plain white room, lying on a fairly soft bed with a thin sheet covering her. Instead of the jumpsuit, she was in a white hospital gown. Someone had cleaned her up, because the parts of her that she could see was free of the dirt and blood and sweat that came with the arena. When she brought a hand to her hair, she found that even that was soft and clean and free of any tangles. They must have also fixed her injuries, because as she moved her body bit by bit, getting movement back in her body by sections, she found that there was no pain. It was gone now. It sort of felt like a distant memory, something so far away. Maybe it was. Athena didn’t know how long she had been passed out. Her necklace was still around her neck, blue spinel pendant and golden ring still in tact. She had a few tubes sticking in her arm that were hooked up to all sorts of complex-looking machines. Some were either taking blood or providing her with or both, it was sort of hard to tell. Another was injecting her with some clear, translucent liquid she recognized immediately as morphling. That explained why it was so hard to stay awake and think straight; Morphling was a powerful sedative and was known to cause hallucinations. Right now, though, she didn’t need sedatives; she needed to remain conscious and think clearly. Knowing that this might bring the pain back and not particularly caring, she brought her hand to her arm and removed the needle injecting her with morphling from her arm.

As soon as the needle left her veins, an alarm went off. It was a high-pitched beeping noise that sounded over and over, evidently signaling something to someone. That she was awake, perhaps. Or that she was misbehaving by not allowing them to sedate her. She tried to bring herself into a sitting position, but she was held down by a wide restraining belt that was attached to the bed. It was all she could do not to panic. She was being strapped down to the bed and the alarm that had gone off when she removed the needle was still beeping incessantly, beginning to remind her horribly of the clicking of the insects in the jungle (maybe they hadn’t left the jungle at all? Maybe this was some sort of trap? Maybe the morphling was taking effect and this was all one long, vivid hallucination?). Someone would be coming to find her because of this beeping and she had no idea who that someone would be and she had no way of getting away if they were a threat.

This only brought her right back to the question burning in her brain. Where was she? This didn’t look like anywhere in the Remake Center or the Training Center. Was she in District Thirteen, then? She frowned at the thought. She didn’t know why, as she wasn’t sure exactly what she had been expecting, but this was not what she imagined District Thirteen to be. They must know she was on their side, so to speak. Why would they be strapping her down? Perhaps for the same reason they strapped down new victors the first time they woke up after leaving the arena. Were they frightened her mind would still be in the arena and she’d go rogue and hurt someone, be it another person or herself? Considering when she had woken up she had almost had a meltdown because she had thought she was still trapped under the wreckage of the arena, perhaps that wasn’t much of a stretch. She still wasn’t reassured.

Where was everyone else? She was the only one in the room. Were they all being kept in separate rooms? Had they even all been taken together? Had her plan worked? Had the fire she helped feed brought the District Thirteen hovercraft to them, allowing them to be rescued? Or had it gone the other way... had the Capitol gotten to her instead and her capture provided only an opportunity for the others to be taken away to safety?

“Finnick?” she called out cautiously, and her voice, while hoarse and rough, was stronger than she had been expecting. She had said his name first by some instinct, but she realized that probably shouldn’t have been the name she called out first. There were other things to think about, other people. The mission. She kept calling their names, as though they might be able to hear her somehow. “Katniss? Peeta? Johanna? Beetee?”

At that moment, someone, a woman, walked into the room. The alarm stopped as soon as she entered and the room went deadly silent. The woman appeared to be a doctor, considering the white coat she was wearing, with short blonde hair that was tied back and icy blue eyes and a coolly detached expression. Athena examined the doctor closely through narrowed eyes. There didn’t seem to be anything overtly Capitol about her. She looked quite normal - that was to say, she didn’t have any unnatural-looking body modifications. There did seem to be something off about her. She seemed almost _too_ perfect, too manufactured and groomed without a flaw to be seen in a way that was almost unnerving.

“Ah, Miss Maris,” the doctor said. She had no distinct accent. “You’re awake.”

“Where am I?” Athena asked sharply, as the doctor approached her bed. “Why am I being strapped down? Where am I? Where’s everyone else? Where did you put them? Do you even have them? What’s going on? Am I - ?”

“Miss Maris, Miss Maris, please,” the doctor said, with a smile that made the hairs at the back of Athena’s neck stand up. It was unnatural, twisted-looking. Was this meant to throw her off? Was this a test? A trick or a trap of some sort? “You have no reason to worry. You’re exactly where you should be, after everything that’s happened. You’re exactly where you deserve to be, after all you’ve done.”

This, of course, answered exactly none of her questions. She had no time to repeat her questions before the doctor was picking up the syringe Athena had left on her bed and was speaking again.

“Miss Maris, you shouldn’t be removing these needles,” she said, her voice calm, flat. “They’re there to help you. We wouldn’t want you to be in pain again, would we?”

“Don’t sedate me, I don’t need morphling,” Athena said at once. “I need to know where everyone is. Where I am. What’s going - hey, don’t! _Don’t!_ ”

The doctor, apparently completely ignoring her, was now trying to place the needle back in her arm. Athena resisted at once, shoving her arm out of the doctor’s grasp. Athena thrashed against the restraining belt uselessly, trying to put distance between herself and the doctor, but this, of course was impossible. The doctor was telling her over and over in her calm, measured voice not to resist and that she needed this, and soon Athena was begging her not to put her under again, but it was no use. Before long the needle was jammed back in her arm and the doctor was twiddling the dials of one of the machines. The numbing effect of the drug was instantaneous. Athena tried to fight it with all her might, but she couldn’t. The morphling was powerful and the doctor had given her a strong dose. Still murmuring pleas to not be sedated and unanswered questions, thinking that perhaps it was foolish of her to have thought she ever had a choice in this matter, the morphling pulled her back under against her will and she passed out again.

 

*

 

Finnick didn’t know how long he was unconscious for, but eventually he managed to swim into semi-consciousness. The first thing he became aware of was the padded table on which he was lying. There was the pinching sensation of tubes in his arm. Every part of his body felt as heavy as lead and his head was oddly foggy, making it hard to think clearly. If they were using the tubes in his arm to medicate him, that might explain it. All he could hear was his breathing and the breathing of others. Not many. Two others, maybe three. Maybe. It was hard to be sure, as clouded as his head was.

Finnick didn't like this. He didn't like not knowing. Too much had been lost and risked for him to not know. He had to find out, one way or another. His eyelids felt too heavy to lift at the moment, so he forced his mouth to open, his lips cracked and dry, and made himself speak.

“Athena?” he croaked, his voice weak. There were other priorities; in some part of his mind he recognized that there was something else, someone else, he ought to be more concerned about, but he didn't care. That could come later. “Athena?”

There was no response. Maybe she wasn't there. Or maybe his voice was even more faint than he realized and she just couldn't hear him. He had to see for himself. With immense difficulty and effort, he forced his eyes to open groggily. He let out a faint groan as his eyes began to focus slowly and low ceilings and silvery light came into view. He couldn't quite move his head or neck yet, so he moved only his eyes. Slowly, carefully, his eyes slid to his left. He found Beetee there, still asleep and being sustained by what appeared to be a small army of machines. He was going to look to his right, but he slipped back involuntarily into unconsciousness before he could.

When he resurfaced, he was still laying on the padded table. The tubes were gone, and there was nothing holding him down to the table. His body felt significantly lighter than it had the first time he woke up. He took this as a good sign. His eyes fluttered open again, and he pushed himself into a sitting position, looking down at himself. The wound he had inflicted upon himself when he cut his tracker had been bandaged. When he moved his arm, it felt a little heavier than usual, but otherwise it was fine. There was no pain. The flame-patterned golden bangle was gone, but he didn’t mind that much. To his immense, slightly embarrassing relief, the seashell necklace Athena made him was still wrapped around his neck. The jumpsuit he'd been wearing in the arena was gone, replaced by a thin nightgown wrapped loosely around him. He wondered if he had only been put in it after he passed out again, or if he had been wearing it the entire time and hadn't noticed it until now.

The latter possibility instantly made him ten times more alert. If he hadn't picked up on what clothing was covering his body, what else had he missed? He made himself stand, and when his feet hit the ground silently, he was pleased to find his legs were strong. They had healed from the weight that had been crushing them who knew how long ago. In fact, all the after effects from the explosion seemed to have worn off now, save for some minor disorientation from which he was rapidly recovering. He looked around the room. To his left, still, was Beetee. Alive, from the looks of it, but he was still hooked to ten different machines that were probably his lifeline at the moment. Across from Beetee was Katniss. Her body seemed tense, and occasionally she would twitch or shudder, but from the looks of it, she was unconscious still.

The three of them were the only ones in the room. Athena wasn't there. Her absence was the first one he noted, impossible for him to miss. Johanna and Peeta and even Enobaria were also nowhere to be found. Had they already woken up? The thought made him wonder how long he had been asleep. Were they being kept apart deliberately apart? He didn't understand who would stand to benefit from keeping them separate - unless they were in the Capitol. The removal of their trackers didn’t absolutely guarantee safety. At the time of the explosions, Finnick had managed to convince himself that they had succeeded in their mission and everything had worked out. Now that he was away from the chaos and there was only quiet, giving him a chance to think things over more rationally, he knew it was foolish of him to assume their safety. Maybe, somehow, the Capitol had grabbed hold of them anyway. Still, though, if the Capitol was going to separate them, didn’t it make the most amount of sense to keep each of them in completely different rooms? And why weren’t they being restrained more? Certainly they would be prisoners? But maybe this was all part of some wicked plan of President Snow’s. Finnick wouldn’t put it past him. And maybe they were being restrained, just not in the way Finnick was thinking. The door could be locked, for all he knew.

The door. Finnick’s eyes landed on it. There were no guards. Perhaps it was sealed shut. Perhaps it wasn’t. Either way, he knew that the answers he sought were on the other side of it. Whether they were in the relatively safe company of their fellow rebels or in the immediate danger of the Capitol. Where the others all were. He would find out if he could get to the other side of that door. He took a silent step forward, then paused. He had no way of knowing if he was with Haymitch and Plutarch and District Thirteen or if he was in the Capitol. Unsurprisingly, his tridents, his nets, and his knives were all nowhere to be found. He hadn’t expected for there to be any actual weapons here. He could make do. Instinctively, his fingers closed around one of the syringes sealed in sterile plastic on a table by Beetee’s bed.

He wasn’t stupid enough to think he could singlehandedly take on the Capitol with nothing but a syringe, especially not in his state, but if it did come to having to fight, he didn’t want to be utterly weaponless. There was also the fact that if he was in possession of the Capitol, he would need to use it to kill not just himself, Beetee, and Katniss, who were still lying unconscious on either side of him, but also Athena and Johanna and Peeta, if he could get his hands on them, if they were even there. The mere thought of killing Athena threatened to destroy him, but he would have to find some way to steel himself and do it, because it was not about him. If they were in Capitol custody, Finnick could not be selfish enough to try and keep her alive just to let her remain helpless in Snow’s hands. Athena had told him, once, at a time that seemed decades ago now but really was less than a year, that she could not ever bear to kill him no matter what, but Athena was also adept at seeing what needed to be done and doing it, and he suspected that if their roles were reversed, she would do the same for him. If they were officially rebel prisoners of the Capitol now, they were better off dead. They all were.

Now a little more prepared to face what came next, Finnick began to move again. Silently, the syringe clutched tightly in his hand, Finnick crept forward through a narrow hallway toward the door and whatever might lay on the other side.

 

*

 

The first thing Athena wanted to do when she woke up again, got her bearings, and remembered what had just happened (had it only just occurred? It was possible she had been out for hours or days or even longer, considering how much morphling they had given her) was rip out the needle supplying her with a steady flow of morphling, but with immense difficulty, she resisted the urge. If she did, that doctor would come back and they would just repeat the same process all over again. Athena didn’t know how much more morphling they could give her without killing her, though. Maybe that wouldn’t be the worst thing. But she didn’t know yet if death was the best option for her, because she didn’t know where she was. She didn’t know where anyone was.

Their names ran through her head. Finnick, Johanna, Katniss, Peeta, Beetee. Katniss, Peeta, Finnick, Johanna, Beetee. Where were they? What had become of them? Were they here - that was, wherever here actually was? Or were they somewhere else - wherever that somewhere else actually was? She tried to remember what had happened to them after the explosion in an attempt to figure out where they could be now, but after Katniss’ arrow hit the force field and lightning struck, she hadn’t seen any of them. She didn’t have the faintest idea what had become of any of her allies, only that she had given one last, hopeless attempt to save them. She wondered where Enobaria was. Athena doubted Haymitch, Plutarch, and District Thirteen would have made much of an effort to save her, considering she wasn’t part of the mission. She was probably in the Capitol, and she was probably fine there - as fine as someone from the districts could get in the Capitol, anyway. She wasn’t involved in the mission, and Athena doubted District Two’s loyalty to the Capitol had wavered in the time she was in the arena. She wouldn’t be in any immediate danger.

Thinking about Enobaria forced her to think about Brutus. A painful feeling in her chest akin to the one that she had gotten when all that weight had been crushing her was rising inside of her at the thought of him. At the time, she had thought there was nothing to do but kill him. Now that she was out of the situation, she was beginning to doubt it. Could she have done something else? It seemed now she had turned to killing far too quickly, had set aside her vow to both herself and Rowan Lindell far too easily. Perhaps this was who she had always really been, all she was really good for; perhaps she had been foolish to try and act otherwise. Laying there thinking about all of this, chained down to her bed and being sedated like she was some wild animal, made her feel more monstrous than ever.

Her mind went to something Finnick had said their first day in the arena: “And no one in this arena was a victor by chance. Except maybe Athena. _Maybe_.”

The implication of his words had been clear; if her victory in her first Games was a matter of chance, it was because she was good and still managed to survive, despite the Games being built so that nobody decent ever made it out. That she was, along with Peeta, decent in a way the other victors were not, better than them. But she was not as good as he thought she was, she knew. She wished she was. Athena craved to be the person Finnick must see in her to love her. She didn’t understand how he could know her so well and still think so highly of her. Instead, she was _this_ , monstrous and hideous and broken...

But none of that mattered. Not right now, anyway. What mattered right now was that Athena had no idea where Finnick was - nor did she know the location of any of the others, for that matter. And she wouldn’t find out lying there in bed, wallowing in guilt and misery and self-loathing the way it was so tempting to do. From the looks of that doctor, whoever had her intended to keep her in this room, strapped down and sedated, until - she didn’t even know what. What she did know was that the only chance she had at getting answers for herself was if she got out of here.

Instantly, she began formulating her escape. She tried to remember how long it had taken for the doctor to come to her room after she removed the needle from her arm. There was no clock in this room, and her head hadn’t quite been in good enough shape to keep accurate track of time in her head, but she figured it was probably around five minutes. Maybe ten. Once she removed the tubes from her arms, she wouldn’t have long to make a break for it. She wasn’t sure what state her legs were in, but as long as she could run she could cover a decent amount of ground. And that was assuming she could walk right out the door and it wasn’t locked or guarded from the outside. Maybe she shouldn’t try to run right out, then... perhaps she ought to wait for the doctor to show up and open the door for her, knock her out, and then make a break for it? The doctor didn’t look very strong, Athena doubted she would expect the attack, her wounds were all healed now, and the sooner she stopped having morphling running through her veins, the sooner she would be in a state to fight. There was still the possibility of guards, though... maybe she could use the syringe of morphling as a weapon, sedate one of the guards, take their weapon, and take out any other guards that might still remain? Her mind was running wild with possibilities as she tried to narrow it all down to one specific plan. Of course, this was all useless to think about if she couldn’t get this restraining belt off of her. It was attached to her bed. Clumsily, she ran her hands along the side of the bed frame, trying to find some sort of button that would cause the belt to retract. There was nothing that she could reach, though, not so much as a bump in the bed frame that might be useful to her. She stopped dead when the door opened again, bringing her hands to her clasp them at her chest and staring up blankly at the ceiling.

From the corner of her eye, she could see it was the doctor, who had an assistant with her this time. The assistant was a little tanner, with light brown hair and hazel eyes. She had the same odd quality to her as the doctor; not unnatural-looking the way so much of the Capitol was, but unnerving to look at in the way she seemed almost _too_ perfect. Athena missed the ragged appearances and ugly injuries of the arena. The Games were fake, every part of it, even the arena, but at least that part of it was always real.

“Did you sleep well, Miss Maris?” the doctor asked her evenly, as though she hadn’t drugged her and forced her to sleep.

“Yeah, peachy,” Athena said roughly. “Where am I? Where’s everyone else? What happened? What’s going on?”

The doctor and the assistant exchanged looks, before they looked back at her and the former said, “It’s time for you to go.”

“Go?” Athena repeated, sitting upright - or trying to, anyway, until the restraining belt stopped her. “Go where? why?”

“You've slept long enough, Miss Maris,” said the doctor firmly. “Now you are ready.”

“Ready for what?” she asked.

Neither of them answered. Athena didn’t know why she was surprised. The doctor and the assistant moved to either side of her bed. Athena was starting to realize it was useless questioning them, but she didn’t give up regardless.

“Katniss Everdeen,” she said, looking to each of them, trying to gauge any amount of information from their reactions, but they had none. “Peeta Mellark? Johanna Mason? Beetee Laitier? Fin-Finnick Odair? Any of those names ring a bell to you? What happened to them? Where are they? Are they here? Do you have them? Are - are they alive?”

Neither the doctor nor the assistant replied. The doctor was taking out all the tubes and needles attached to her arm (there was no alarm this time), while the assistant was pressing a button out of arm's length for Athena that made the belt retract into the bed. Athena was free of any restraints. She did not move right away, though. She hadn't been planning on there being two of them. Had they somehow realized what she would want to make a break for it, and sent the doctor with back-up? She didn't understand why they would send this assistant, though, who didn't look much stronger than the doctor. Still, Athena didn't act. She only had one chance to escape, she couldn't afford to make any mistakes. She would wait to see how strong she was on her feet.

“Come along,” the doctor said. “We shouldn't linger. We wouldn't want you to be late.”

“Late for what?” Athena asked, but it was useless, because as per usual, the doctor and the assistant both said nothing. Athena made to sit up in bed, and the doctor and the assistant both reached out to help her up. She tried to push them off her. “Don’t touch me. I don’t need help.”

They ignored her, and Athena gave up. She didn’t want to cause conflict yet. She’d wait for the right moment. She really didn’t need the help, though. When her feet hit the floor and took a tentative step forward, she found her legs were more than strong enough to carry her weight on their own. She would be able to run, if and when the time came. No sooner had she had that thought did a set of hands grab onto her arms to stop her from moving any further, while something was thrown over her head that made her vision go black.

 

*

 

Finnick paused when he was at the metal door. He flattened himself against the wall, straining his ears to listen to the voices inside. Two masculine voices, talking in low tones. They sounded vaguely familiar to him, but he couldn’t make out who they were or what they were saying. There would only be one way to find out. He reached out and brought the hand that wasn’t holding a syringe to the door. It wasn’t locked and opened with ease.

Daylight was streaming into the room through curved windows. In the distance, he could see the top of a forest of trees. They were flying somewhere. Sitting at opposite ends of a table were Haymitch and Plutarch. As soon as Finnick walked in, they looked round and jumped to their feet. For a moment, they all just stared at each other.

“Finnick,” said Plutarch, his voice gentle, his smile kind. “You’re awake.”

Haymitch, however, was looking at the syringe in Finnick’s hand. His voice gruff, he said, “So, what did you think you were gonna do with that?”

“I had no way of knowing for sure that I wasn’t in the Capitol,” Finnick replied, his voice hoarse. If he was in a room with Haymitch and Plutarch and they weren’t being restrained or imprisoned, then there was no way he was in the Capitol. They were in District Thirteen - or on their way to it, anyway, in one of its hovercrafts.

“I gathered that,” Haymitch said. “So what were you thinking? You and a syringe against the Capitol? I thought you at least would be smarter than that.”

“Better that than nothing,” Finnick said, though he hadn’t had been intending to survive if he was in the Capitol.

Haymitch seemed to realize that from the look on his face, because he said nothing else. Plutarch, who seemed to also have realized what Finnick had been intending to do with his syringe, said, “Come. Sit down. I’m sure you’re exhausted. ”

Finnick didn’t feel like sitting, though. He remained standing. Haymitch and Plutarch seemed almost unnerved by the syringe now, as though worried he might still attack. He didn’t care at first that he was making them uneasy, until he thought better of it. He had questions that needed answers still; it would be better if he made sure they were willing to answer them. He tossed the syringe onto the table. It wasn’t like he had any use for it now, in any case. They were most likely heading towards District Thirteen. Away from the Capitol. Katniss was alive and relatively safe. The mockingjay lived and so did the revolution. They were, from the looks of the machines they had him attached to, fighting to keep Beetee alive. That still left a lot of questions unanswered. One of these questions in particular was burning at his brain, clawing at him, begging to be answered.

“Where’s Athena?” he asked, looking between Haymitch and Plutarch. “Is she awake yet?”

Neither Haymitch nor Plutarch answered right away. Their gaze flickered over to each other - quick, fleeting, but Finnick noticed it. His hand twitched almost instinctively for the syringe again. He didn’t know why. It wasn’t like he needed it where he was or where he was going. What he did know was that there was a growing sense of dread and unease building up inside him, coiling tightly in his stomach before slowly beginning to spread through the rest of him, the likes of which always made him reach for his weapons when he was in the arena. But he wasn’t in the arena anymore, and he knew that, so he kept his hands at his sides.

He was about to ask the question again, when Plutarch spoke, saying evasively, “Athena hasn’t been extracted yet.”

“Meaning?” Finnick said, his voice dangerously low, but he felt an excruciating weight being dropped upon him, worse than anything that had fallen on him after the explosion. He would never admit it, but the meaning of Plutarch’s words was dawning on him. That feeling of dread spread further through him, thick and heavy and hard to ignore. “Where is she?”

Again, Haymitch and Plutarch both said nothing. They didn’t exchange any other furtive looks. They simply stared at him, something close to pity on their faces. The feeling of dread and unease was in every part of him now, running through his veins, seeping into his bones, weakening his muscles, and weighing him down. He knew, in some part of his mind, what it meant, but he refused to acknowledge it. He refused to even accept it as a possibility. It couldn’t be possible. They had had a deal. That couldn’t be right.

“Where is she?” Finnick said again, and his voice was more weak now, desperation clawing at his throat. “Where’s Athena?”

Haymitch and Plutarch exchanged glances, something like resignation on their faces. Plutarch let out a sigh, but Haymitch was the one that turned to Finnick and spoke.

“She's in the Capitol, Finnick,” he said finally, saying what they all knew. He had the decency to lower his gaze from Finnick’s eyes as he spoke. “Snow has her. Same with Peeta and Johanna.”

For a moment, Finnick said nothing, did nothing. The weight of Haymitch’s words hung in the air, infested itself in his chest, his lungs, his throat, suffocating him. The silence was deafening, but there was an odd ringing noise in his ear. Finnick couldn’t tell if that was from the explosion or if it was the clicking insects echoing in his head (maybe they were still in the arena after all?) or some sort of side effect of losing the love of his life, the person he loved more than anything. Because Athena was lost. He had tried to deny it to himself, but now that it had been said out loud, there was no choice but to acknowledge it as the truth. She was in the Capitol’s hands now. In Snow’s hands. She would doubtlessly be tortured for information and as punishment for her involvement in this rebel plan, before she would eventually be killed. He could not protect her where she was now. No one could. She was better off dead than where she was now. Finnick couldn’t even spare her from the torture she was going to face.

Haymitch and Plutarch were watching him warily, as though scared of what he'd do next. Finnick would be scared of himself too. Athena was worse than dead. Finnick was standing here with them. And it was all because they had decided to save him instead of her.

“Finnick, I'm so - ” Plutarch said, approaching him slowly and raising his hands in peace.

Finnick didn't even let him finish. Plutarch was closest, so Plutarch was the one he attacked, lunging at him. He slammed Plutarch against the wall before he had a chance to defend himself, grabbing a fistful of his shirt. Rage took over grief, and for a moment, Finnick could function again.

“You're sorry?” Finnick snarled. “Is that what you're going to say? That you're sorry? Does sorry bring her back? We had a deal! You told me you'd get her out of there! You told me if it was between me or her, you'd choose her! Why didn't you? Why did you leave her?”

This had been Finnick’s only condition before agreeing to this plan, this insane plan that had very much seemed a suicide mission; that if it came down to it, between himself and Athena, the latter was treated as the priority. All he had wanted was her safety, for her to be as far from the Capitol as possible. But now she was heading towards the Capitol - perhaps she was there already. And he was here.

Haymitch grabbed him, pulling him away from Plutarch. Finnick struggled against him, unwilling to let go. Haymitch was much older and out of shape but he was stronger than he looked, and Finnick was weaker than he'd realized at first and his stance was made sloppy by his anger and his grief, so Haymitch managed to succeed in throwing him away from Plutarch, forcing him to stumble back several steps until he finally managed to regain his balance. But he hated Haymitch just as much as he hated Plutarch in that moment, so Finnick attacked him next, punching him square in the jaw so hard Haymitch nearly fell back onto the floor. Finnick lifted his fist again, but Haymitch reacted quickly enough, grabbing his arms and restraining them with difficulty, before kicking him backwards. Haymitch used enough force to send Finnick’s back slamming against the wall painfully, and only then did Finnick stop. His head was pounding and the room was spinning and he couldn't breathe, his chest beginning to close in on itself. Nothing in his body seemed to be working the way it was supposed to, which he figured was the only thing that made sense when the unthinkable, the unimaginable, the worst case scenario happened.

“Why didn't you? Why didn't you save her?”

He had meant to shout it. He had meant to scream so loud they heard it across Panem. He couldn’t even do that, though. Instead it came out as a faint croak, weak and defeated. He felt even weaker than before, slumping against the wall. He was surprised he was still upright at all.

“We didn't have a choice,” Haymitch said. “She still had her tracker in, and she drew a lot of attention to her with her little stunt with the fire. It helped us find the rest of you, but it also made the Capitol zero in on her. By the time we got to her, the Capitol was already there. We barely got out as it was. Saving her would've blown the whole mission.”

“ _You should've done it anyway!”_ he burst out, because he wasn't thinking straight anymore. “You should've blown the whole mission if you had to, you should've done whatever it took, you should’ve - ”

“Finnick,” Plutarch cut across him firmly, “I know this is a lot to take in, and I understand how you feel, but I need you to calm down. Get a hold of yourself. If you don't, we'll have to sedate you.”

For a split second, Finnick wanted to kill them both. But that would solve nothing, do nothing. He had no idea how to save Athena, if there _was_ any way to save Athena, but they must have something. Gradually, he forced himself to calm down, to not think of everything the Capitol would do to Athena.

“How long until we save her?” he demanded.

“A while,” said Plutarch. “We'll need to recover from this mission. And infiltrating the Capitol is no walk in the park, especially now that we’re approaching all-out war. We'll need time to plan, to strategize, to figure out where they are, how to get them out with minimal casualties - ”

In another time, Finnick would've cared about all of this. Now he couldn't bring himself to give a damn about any of it. Not strategies or plans or casualties or anything. All he cared about was that Athena was not here with him, that she was in the Capitol, where she would be tortured mercilessly, where he could not protect her, where she was being condemned to something worse than death. When he spoke, his voice was tight, short.

“How. Long.”

Plutarch hesitated, before saying, “Weeks. Months, maybe. Potentially longer.”

Weeks. Months. Maybe longer. That was how long Athena would be stuck in the Capitol’s possession. Maybe she wouldn’t even survive that time. She would likely try to kill herself as soon as she realized where she was, but the Capitol wouldn’t let her. They would not allow her a quick, merciless, painless way out. If and when they did decide to kill her, it would be after putting her in excruciating pain, using her until they felt she had outlived her usefulness, and they would make her death as humiliating and painful as possible. And Johanna and Peeta were in the same position. It wouldn’t be quite as bad for Peeta, who had been ignorant of the mission and still would not know much about it and would without a doubt be kept alive if the Capitol thought they could use him against Katniss, but for Athena and Johanna... they had been right in the middle of the mission. They would show no mercy to punish them and to get information out of them.

Finnick stumbled forward clumsily, swaying dangerously, completely unsteady and unstable now. Haymitch and Plutarch both tensed, but Finnick made no move to attack them. He didn’t think he had the strength or the energy to. He didn’t think he had the strength or the energy for anything anymore, as it was. What was the point? What was the point of anything at all, when he was here and Athena and Johanna and Peeta were -

He collapsed onto one of the chairs, burying his head in his hands. His fingers curled in his hair, and it reminded him achingly of the way Athena would run her hands through his hair and tug on it lightly when she kissed him. When she kissed him. They had crossed a line that was meant to stay uncrossed. And now Snow had her, and Finnick would be stupid to think that she wouldn’t be punished for that too. What would he do to her? Would he hurt her? Would he follow through on his threats to sell her body to wealthy Capitol citizens, rape her the way he raped him?

Finnick couldn’t stand to think of any more, but his brain wouldn’t stop. His whole body shuddered violently, and he realized after a second that he was crying. His fingers were still in his hair. He wanted to rip it all out, but he didn’t. He had wanted to save Athena and Johanna and Peeta, but he hadn’t. And now they were in the Capitol. And he was here.

“Finnick?”

It was Haymitch. Or maybe it was Plutarch. Finnick wasn’t sure. It could’ve been someone else. It could’ve been Snow, for all he knew. Everything sounded the same all of a sudden. The voice sounded concerned. He could guess why. Finnick didn’t look up, though, until he was sure he wasn’t crying anymore, wiping his eyes as subtly as he could. He looked back up slowly. It was still just Haymitch and Plutarch, staring at him with pity and concern. Finnick found there was nothing to say; nothing to say except this:

“You should have killed us all. After you saved Katniss. You should have just killed the rest of us.”

 

*

 

The cover around Athena’s head that blinded her was necessary - according to the doctors. They were taking her somewhere and it was best if she only saw “what she needed to see.” They made her walk. They led her to what seemed to be out of the room and through what she figured had to be hallways, considering how long they would walk for before they turned this way or that. Occasionally there would be stairs they had to climb up. It was clear to her they were keeping her in the dark about where she was, but why? She wouldn’t put it past Snow to keep her in the dark so that he could have the upper hand on her. But it was also possible that District Thirteen was very secretive, especially when it came to newcomers arriving at their homebase. They couldn’t have survived underground for nearly a century by being overly trusting, she imagined. But why hide from her? She had killed and almost died for the same revolution that they were leading. She had known about this mission and hadn’t told everything to Snow and the Capitol. Hadn’t she proved she was worth trusting? Or did they distrust her because they weren’t sure if she was stable?

She didn’t know, but she still didn’t resist. She knew better than to cause conflict now. She had to wait for the right moment. The cover wouldn’t be hard to remove, if and when the time came. And even as the doctor and her assistant frogmarched her forward with her arms pinned to her sides, she could tell they weren’t very strong, and they were around her height, which meant she’d know where to hit. She could take them both out with ease, especially since she had the element of surprise on her side. But she waited. She gave up on asking questions, even though they still burned at her; one, because she knew they wouldn’t answer, and two, because if they were talking, then Athena would have a harder time listening to her surroundings, which were hard enough to listen to as it was, even as Athena made her footsteps silent. She could hear nothing but their breathing and the footsteps of the two doctors. Nothing else. No one else. But there could still be guards, waiting silently for her to make any move to fight or run before they used bullet and blade alike against her. Athena would never find out if she didn’t try, though. She was realizing a better opportunity was not going to come to her. She had to attack now.

And just as she had come to that conclusion, they stopped. She could feel them moving away from her. The cover was being removed from her head, allowing her to see again. They were in another plain, white, windowless room, but this one was much larger, about the size of a gymnasium, with columns placed at intervals. The place was abandoned. Athena looked round, where the sound of the two doctors’ footsteps had gone.

“Where are - ?”

Athena didn’t finish her sentence, though. The doctor and her assistant were leaving through a door a short distance away. Athena broke into a run immediately, trying to stop it before it closed, but just as she reached it, it slid into the wall and disappeared. Athena felt all around the wall desperately, but there was no handle, no button, nothing. No way for her to leave. Athena sighed, her posture slumping. She was stuck here.

 

*

 

Haymitch and Plutarch seemed to realize that a temporary calm (well, not calm so much as a breakdown that left him drained and depleted, a complete and utter numbness passing through him) had come over Finnick and used the time to give him all the information he had missed. Finnick didn’t speak, didn’t ask questions, just stared ahead blankly and listened as the words came floating through his ears. At some point, food appeared and a meal was laid out in front of them. Finnick wasn’t hungry. Haymitch and Plutarch didn’t eat either.

The first thing they did was show him the footage from the last moments of the Games to fill in the blanks for him in that area. He saw Johanna and Katniss realizing the Careers would be coming for him, Johanna knocking Katniss out, cutting out her tracker, and smearing her with blood so that the Careers would think she was dying and leave her alone. He saw Katniss slowly picking herself back up and making her way back to the lightning tree despite being horribly injured. To his surprise, Katniss had seen Finnick coming when he was looking for Johanna and Katniss and had merely hidden away from him. She hadn't tried to kill him, though, despite having a clear shot at him. He wondered if she would come to regret that, when she found out the truth. When she found out he had been deceiving her. When she found out he was safe and Peeta was in the Capitol. He wouldn't blame her if she did. He sort of wished she had done it, too.

He saw Johanna having to fend for herself against the insects of the eleven-to-twelve-o’clock wedge, insects twice the size of his head with pincers bigger than a crab’s, before finally making it out of the wedge. He saw Brutus killing Chaff, Peeta attacking Brutus in a fit of rage as a result, Brutus knocking Peeta out, Athena coming along and killing Brutus’ herself, though not before obtaining serious injuries of her own. He saw Athena and Peeta getting split up when Peeta ran, screaming Katniss’ name in some last ditch attempt to lure any threats away from her and toward him. He saw Athena finding Johanna, patching her up as much as she could, supporting her as they walked to the lightning tree. He saw Athena taking out the metal disk that provided the aerial shots that had been blocking Katniss’ way at shooting the force field. He saw Peeta, still yelling Katniss’ name, end up in the same general vicinity as Athena and Johanna. Athena and Johanna and Peeta, all fairly close together with their trackers still in...

When Katniss blew up the force field, the cameras cut out, and Plutarch said, “You can probably piece together everything that happened right after.”

He could. He didn’t say anything, though.

They pressed on, providing him with more information. They were currently on a very roundabout journey to District Thirteen, with the hopes that the convoluted route they were taking would throw off the Capitol and make them harder to track. Most of the districts, meanwhile, were in full-scale rebellion. Including District Four. Communications were down in Four, Seven, Nine, and Ten. Eleven had control of transportation now, though, which meant a chance of getting food sent out. District Twelve was destroyed. The Capitol’s firebombs turned all of it to ruin save for Victor’s Village almost immediately after the chaos of the arena had ensued. Katniss’ punishment for destroying the forcefield. Or perhaps a last ditch, unsuccessful attempt to stop the uprisings even as they came in waves. There were some survivors. Someone called Gale Hawthorne (Katniss’ cousin, Finnick realized, remembering something Peeta had said in the arena, but as it turned out, Gale was not Katniss’ cousin. When they were trying to sell Katniss and Peeta’s love story, Gale had presented a bit of a problem, as a young, handsome man that Katniss ran off into the woods with on a regular basis, and so they had decided to tell everyone that the two were cousins to ward off any problems) had led a group of about eight hundred into the safety of the woods. From there, Gale had hunted for them, while Katniss’ mother and sister set to work on healing the injured. Eventually, District Thirteen had found out why communications were down in the district, sent a hovercraft to collect the survivors, who were now also being taken to District Thirteen as refugees.

Eventually, they brought him up to speed. In another time, Finnick would have reacted more to all of this, would have asked questions, would have done more. But suddenly he felt so detached from everything, even from this conversation. It felt like he was watching people he didn’t know talk about some country with which he was unfamiliar, to which he had never been. Not his home. Not his people.

He thought about Peeta. He was just a kid, innocent and ignorant of all the things they had been planning behind his and Katniss’ backs, and yet he would bear much of the burden of it. He might not have any information, but that didn’t mean the Capitol would spare him. They would put him through horrific things all the same. Finnick should have protected him more, but he hadn’t.

He thought about Johanna. Johanna who had known about the plan, who would be treated worse because of it. Johanna, covered in injuries from the insects. Johanna who would rather die painfully a thousand times over than become prisoner to the Capitol, and now she was... Johanna who he had always seen as a younger sister, except he had failed to protect her like one.

He thought about Athena the most. Despair and sorrow weighed him down more and more with every second he thought of her. The thought of what would be done to hear was tearing at him, wearing him down. It took ten times as long to put yourself back together as it did to fall apart. He knew this, but he couldn’t stop the way he was breaking down just then, deteriorating into nothingness, it seemed. There was so much that Snow would punish her for, information he would try to torture out of her, and so many ways he could do it so brutally. He thought about the last time he had seen her, in the distance in that jungle before everything fell apart. She had been wide-eyed, and her necklace her mother had given her all those years ago glinted in the moonlight, and -

The necklace. Athena’s mother and sister. Annie. Everyone back home in Four. Were they safe? District Four had an uprising of their own on their hands. Where were they in all this? Surely the Capitol would know to get them as soon as possible to use them against Finnick and Athena. Had they already done it? Or had they not gotten to them in the midst of all this chaos? Was there still a chance to save them?

He had to see. He had to try.

“District Four,” he croaked, his voice even more hoarse and weak than it had been before. “Need to get to District Four. Annie - Annie Cresta, Athena’s mother and sister, the other victors - they’ll use them. We need to get to them first, if we can, we - ”

But Plutarch was shaking his head. “No, I’m sorry, there’s no way I can get you to Four. But I’ve already given special orders for their retrieval if possible. It’s the best I can do, Finnick.”

Finnick, if possible, felt even heavier. He felt like he would sink into the floor, melt into nothingness. He wished he would.

“The best thing _I_ could do,” he said, heavy with despair, “is give myself up. Put myself in their place. Have Snow take me instead. If I can get to the - ”

“Don’t be stupid,” Haymitch said sharply. “That’s the worst thing you could do. They’ll kill you and then kill the rest of them for sure.” Haymitch was right. It didn’t make things any better. “Look, kid,” said Haymitch, and it reminded Finnick of the way Murphy called people ‘kid,’ except Haymitch was not Murphy because Murphy would have known to save Athena first, “they’re going to keep Athena’s family and Annie and anyone else they might take alive as bait, which means they’ll stay alive as long as you and Athena are alive. And Athena stays alive as long as Snow thinks she has some usefulness in terms of information or maybe as a weapon to the Capitol - you know, make her go on television to denounce the rebellion or something. And they’ll use her to bait you. Which means the longer you stay alive, the better her chances are of living.”

Haymitch had a point. Snow must have realized that, even though he didn’t have Finnick in his possession, he had the best weapons to use against him. If Finnick was dead, Snow wouldn’t need those weapons anymore. Snow might keep them alive for other purposes, but all the same, they had a better chance if he was alive. Which meant he could not die. He had to stay alive for them.

So he would live, if that was what he had to do, no matter how much he wanted to do the opposite. He would keep living, despite the pain and the misery he felt and the guilt that was eating away at him and the knowledge that Mags was dead and everyone else he cared about was in a worse position and would probably soon see the same fate. Finnick brought his hand to the necklace of shells, turning over one of the blue seashells in his fingers. He thought about Athena, the pleased smile on her face after making the necklace for him.

 _I’m sorry,_ he thought, despair ripping him to pieces. _Athena, my love, I am so sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t do more._

She would want him to live, regardless if there was any immediate usefulness to his life. She would want him to keep living anyway. He thought about what Haymitch and Plutarch had told him, about the way she had fed the flames around her to draw the hovercrafts over in their vicinity, resulting in the Capitol being too distracted with taking her to focus on taking more tributes than they could have. Yes, she would want him to live. And perhaps he owed that to her. An attempt, at least. He felt lower than he had ever been. He would be able to take no more after this, he knew. But there was nothing for it but this.

 _I’ll try, Athena,_ he thought, tightening his fingers around the necklace. _For you, I’ll try._

 

*

 

Where was she? Was this some sort of a prison cell? It was the biggest cell Athena had ever seen in her life. Nothing like the ones in District Four. She couldn’t figure out what else it could be, though. How long would they keep her here for? And why were they keeping her here? What was the use in moving her? She ran a hand through her now soft, detangled hair, sighing, and turned away from the wall she knew was hiding a door. There was no way for her to get it to open. It seemed you needed some sort of clearance that she didn’t have to be able to open and close doors here. Wherever here was.

She took a few steps into the room. Nothing was restraining her anymore. There was no need, since she was trapped here. She looked around the room, hoping to find something, anything at all, that she could use to get herself out of here and figure out where she was, what had become of the others, and what she could do to help them, if they needed it. She found nothing of the sort. The room was utterly plain and empty - except for one thing. The only piece of furniture or decoration in the entire, wide room.

Her heart dropped to the region of her stomach at the sight of it, stopping dead. As though on autopilot, her legs shuffled forward towards it, staring at it with wide eyes. This could not be it. This could not be right. If this was what she thought it was, then she knew exactly where she was, but she did not want to believe it. It was hanging from the wall opposite from her, and within a matter of seconds that felt quite like hours, she was right in front of it. Athena’s heart was working in overtime now, every inch of her body overtaken by horror.

It had been six full years since she had seen the thing in person, but she recognized it at once. For a split second, she was not a twenty-three year-old woman in a thin hospital gown; instead, she was eighteen and in a beautiful, flowing gown. She was standing beside the paper thin, pale man, staring at the thing, while he raved about it, told her about the significance of it, threatened her some more, and sent her on her way. It was exactly the same as it had been the first time. A terrified man and a woman, clutching onto each other, on an unsturdy boat on stormy waters. The sky was dark, and the storm was about to overtake them and drown them once and for all. Athena knew the feeling quite well just then, because as far as she knew, only one of these paintings existed, and if she was here, in the same room as it, there was only one place she could be.

“No,” Athena whispered, panic rising up inside her, shaking her head frantically, though she knew it was true. “No, no, no, no, no, no...”

Why hadn’t she died first? It was the one thing she had wanted, for her to die before they could take her. Why wasn’t she dead? Was there some way she could do it now? It was her best option, now that she was here, better to end it herself right now, claim her life and make her death her own, than let them do anything else to her. How could she do it? How? She couldn’t think straight, panic and horror and terror clawing at her throat and leaving it raw, running through her veins much like the morphling. She tried to breathe in and out to calm herself, but she couldn’t do it, like she had lost the ability, like the time for it had passed and was gone now. And the painting was staring her in the face, making it even harder to think. She needed a way out. She needed to find a way out.

But there was no way out. There was nothing at all. Nothing but this. She was trapped here, caged. This was her life, probably the rest of it, however long it would last. There was nothing but this. There was no way out. There was nothing but this.

Athena turned slowly at the sound of approaching footsteps. Her heart dropped when she saw who it was, horror seizing it tightly, though she couldn't have expected anything or anyone else. President Snow was walking towards her slowly. He had done this all on purpose; used morphling to keep her sedated until just the right time for him, kept her in the dark about her location, gotten doctors who didn’t look and sound like typical Capitol citizens, done all of this so that he could pull the floor from underneath her feet at just the right moment. She hated him for it. She hated herself for falling for it, for believing that anything but this could be the reality. There was no way out, nothing but this. She would have more room for hate if she wasn’t so terrified and panicked and so very aware of the fact that she was doomed. Snow seemed aware of it too. He was wearing a suit of all white and a smile of pure triumph on his face.

“My dear girl... didn't I warn you about what would happen to those who strayed too far from the harbour?”


End file.
